Twin Bullets
by NatBlake
Summary: It was just another job. Henry Haddock, top notch US Special Forces sniper, is sent to gun down a family of rogue terrorists in Afghanistan. This blonde girl shouldn't even be there, but she is, and she's in the way. Henry never knew saving her life would change his own so drastically. Modern AU in which Hiccup is a sniper. Rated T for language and violence.
1. A Sniper

Hello all,  
This is a Modern AU FanFiction that I will be spending very little time writing. It is kind of just a fun idea that I had in my head for a while and needed to get down on paper. Hiccup(Henry) Haddock is in the United States Special Forces in this story, but I am telling you right now that I have absolutely NO IDEA of how the military operates, or even what the Special Forces do. All of my so-called military 'knowledge' is based off of what I've seen in several Marvel movies, as well as the following: Black Hawk Down, Thirteen Days, U571, Top Gun, Captain Phillips, Predator, Heartbreak Ridge, Forrest Gump, Hunt for Red October, and others. It is most likely that all of the stuff happening would totally NEVER be allowed in a real combat situation. I admit this right away, but you can still yell at me for how bad it is. It's always fun to read flames. :)

Anyway, here it is, and I hope you enjoy. If you like it, be sure to drop off a review and I'll be encouraged to write more. Oh, yeah, and there's a LOT of coarse language in this story. But I _do_ know that cussing is common in the military, so don't be shocked. Hope you all enjoy. Read on!

Oh yeah, and I know nothing of Afghanistan either.

Aaaaaand I also don't own HTTYD in any way, shape, or form. Let's make that clear too.

* * *

 **Time: 1800 hours  
Location: Golbahar, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **36.569931, 59.161591)** **  
Recording: US Military radio 45B  
Operation: Z-COM-8  
Date: April 13, 2017**

 ***Radio Silence***

 ***Static***

 **Strike Force 1:** "Base, this is Special Ops Strike Force 1. We are in position, repeat, we are in position. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Roger that, Strike 1. Agent Haddock, are you in the sniping location? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Negative, Team Leader. Currently held up by civilian presence on the street. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Strike 1, can you confirm? Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Haddock, it looks like the street will be cleared in approximately _one_ minute. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Strike 2, what's your status? Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Strike 2 is en route to extraction point. We will be there in eight minutes, repeat, eight minutes. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, you've got eight minutes to get your ass out of there and in your proper location. The Pentagon needs you to make these kills quickly. I don't care what kind of civilian presence there is, you get over to the sniping location now, or I'll have your ass fried in pan and eaten for breakfast! Over!"

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Team Leader. I don't think I'll go well with eggs, though. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Team Leader, we are requesting permission to beat the piss out of Agent Haddock after this mission is complete. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "All right, knock it off, Strike 1. Agent Haddock, you'd better _move_. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "The street will be clear in about ten seconds, repeat, ten seconds. Haddock, be ready to make your move to the sniping location. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Strike 1. Team Leader, please confirm, the building is clear? Repeat, is the building clear? Over."

 **US Army Base:** "We confirm, Agent Haddock. The building is clear. But you know if someone challenges you in there, you blow their head off. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Making move to sniping location in three, two, one. On my way. Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 09 seconds***

 **US Army Base:** "Status, Strike 1? Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Haddock has crossed the street and is now in the building. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, can you confirm? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Sniper is currently climbing ladder to the strike point. Repeat, on my way to the strike point. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Strike 2, what's your status? Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Strike 2 has turned off the main highway and is now moving the Humvees to the extraction point. Arrival in seven minutes, repeat, seven minutes. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, you've got seven minutes to kill three terrorists. Are you at the sniping location? Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 22 seconds***

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Strike team, I am in position over the north wall. In sniping area. Repeat, I am in position. Preparing weapon for Operation Z-COM-8. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Operation Z-COM-8? Jesus Christ, these blasted codes are getting harder to pronounce every day. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Strike 1, why don't you guys just man up and stop whining? You dickheads don't have to do shit on this mission, and you can't even remember the blasted mission code. You two guys are a fucking disgrace to Special Ops, repeat, you guys are a disgrace to Special Ops. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Haddock, will you just shut the fuck up and kill these baddies so that we can get out of here? The two of us should be back at the base eating doughnuts right now, and yet here we are in the middle of fucking Afghanistan because you have to shoot a few assholes. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Try telling that to the Colonel, Strike 1. I'd love to see his face as he listened. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Jesus, the Colonel? He'd have our asses in no time if we used this fucking language in front of him. Seriously, I'm going to quit this hella shitty job soon and tell both him and the Pentagon to go to hell. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Strike 1. Sounds like a _really_ good plan. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Jesus, Haddock, can you just stop fucking joking around? Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "No, Haddock, keep it up. Extraction team is loving it back here in the Humvees. Keep talking shit to those boys. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Strike 2, if you encourage Haddock, he'll forget all about the damn mission and concentrate solely on making some fucking jokes! I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't want to be taken in front of a pissed off Colonel. And, Strike 2, I have distant visual on your Humvees. You're looking good. Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Copy that, Strike 1. Anyway, the last time the Colonel was pissed at us was not fun. So, Strike 1, your point is taken, and Haddock, shove all those jokes and sarcasm up your ass. We'll be there in six minutes to make sure that you do. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "When was the last time the Colonel flipped shit at us, anyway? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "That was right after the Paris assassination last year, remember? That godalmighty awful mission that almost went totally wrong? Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Oh, yeah, I remember that bullshit. Jesus Christ, that was a fucking nightmare. The police were all over and we had to pull a lightning fast Evac to escape. Almost got caught. Paris officials still think the Iranian government did it. Funny as shit. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Yeah, boys, thanks for reminding me of that. I had to face the brunt of the Colonel's wrath for that one. Trust me, you got off lucky. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Well, we aren't legendary snipers like you, dumbass Haddock. We actually had our fucking jobs on the line after that one. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "I'm so sorry, bitches. Weapon is almost assembled, by the way. Watch me bang these terrorists just like I bang your girlfriends. Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Haddock, seriously, shut the _fuck_ up! Over and fucking OUT."

 ***Radio Silence - 01 seconds***

 **US Army Base:** "Well, I hate to break up this love-fest, but what's your goddamn status, Agent Haddock? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Weapon is assembled, repeat, weapon is assembled. Moving to shooting position by the South wall. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, confirm, do you have visual of the targets? Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 02 seconds***

 **Strike Force 1:** "Haddock, you should be able to see the targets through the second window on the ground floor of the building opposite you. Confirm, do you have visual? Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 05 seconds***

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Umm, Team Leader, how many terrorists again?"

 **US Army Base:** "You should have three targets, Agent Haddock. Repeat, three targets, all visible through the window on the first floor of the target building. Is there an issue, Haddock? Repeat, is there an issue? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Team Leader, I have visual of four, repeat, _four_ targets. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Jesus Christ. What the hell?"

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Copy that, Strike 1."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Go fuck off, Haddock. Seriously, what the hell is going on over there? Team Leader, Haddock has visual on four, repeat, four, not three, targets. What's the scoop? Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Five minutes till extraction, Strike Team. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Fuck! Team Leader, I need confirmation. Repeat, I have visual on four targets. FOUR. One of them does not look like a terrorist, repeat, one is NOT is an Afghan. What should I do, goddammit!?"

 **US Army Base:** "Strike Team, I am calling the Colonel. Our mission reports may have been inaccurate. Stand by for further instructions. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Jesus fucking dammit, Team Leader, we've got five minutes!"

 ***Radio Silence - 03 seconds***

 **US Army Base:** "Strike Team, I am getting the Colonel on the line as we speak. Agent Haddock, you should currently have visual of a family of three Afghan terrorists. A father, a mother, and a daughter, all Afghan, and clad accordingly. The usual. Is that what you have, Haddock? Repeat, is that what you see? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Negative! Strike Team, I repeat, I have _four fucking targets_! One is _not_ Afghan. She's white, blonde hair, looks American. Could potentially be a captive. Team Leader, do we have news of any hostages in the area? Repeat, could this fourth target be a hostage? Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, the Colonel needs to know if the fourth target appears to be under duress or in pain. Is she? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Negative, Team Leader. Target looks perfectly normal. She is dressed in non-Afghan clothing. Repeat, target is NOT an Afghan and does NOT appear to be a hostage. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Can we get a complete description of the fourth target, Agent Haddock? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Fourth target is a white female, average height, blonde hair, and looks like blue eyes. She is wearing a blue sweater and shorts. Repeat, no hijab or any other form of Afghan appearance. Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 04 seconds***

 **US Army Base:** "Strike Team, the Colonel thinks said target must be a hostage, and wants her to be extracted immediately. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Mother of God. The Pentagon needs to get their shit together. How the HELL did they not know about a damned hostage? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Do we have a plan, Team Leader? We are running out of time. Do we call off the mission and initiate a Rescue Op instead? Repeat, do we call off the mission? Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Negative, Strike Team, we are NOT, repeat, NOT calling off the mission. We have fresh orders from the Colonel to both take out the terrorists AND rescue the hostage. Strike Team, ears open. I have new instructions. Agent Haddock, you need to take out the terrorists as quickly as possible from sniping position. Strike 1, you will move in from your location and approach the target building, As soon as Agent Haddock eliminates the targets, rescue the hostage and get to the extraction point at once. Try to go unseen, but speed is your top priority. Agent Haddock, you will provide cover fire from sniping position. Strike 2, your extraction point remains the same. Continue on your original course. Strike 1, you will have to haul ass. Do you copy? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Negative, Team Leader. I'll handle it."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock? Say again. Repeat, say again, Agent Haddock."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "I'll take care of it, Team Leader. I'll cross the road after making the kills and rescue the hostage. Strike 1 can cover me from their position on the East building. It's easier this way. Request change in plans. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Confirm, Agent Haddock. Strike 1, disregard previous instructions. Cover Agent Haddock instead. Haddock, you take out the terrorists and rescue the hostage. Do not get killed, repeat, do not get killed, and move your ass. Strike 1, do you confirm? Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Haddock, you're one crazy ass son of a bitch."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Strike 1. I'll keep that valuable analysis in mind. Over."

 **Strike Force 2:** "Strike Team, you have four minutes to extraction. Over."

 **US Army Base:** "Agent Haddock, confirm, do you have visual? Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Terrorists are in sight. Strike 1, I am ready to shoot. Stand by to initiate Operation Z-COM-8 and provide cover fire. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Copy that, Haddock. Team Leader, Strike 1 is standing by to carry out instructions. Over."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Team Leader, it's your call. Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 04 seconds***

 **US Army Base:** "Execute."

* * *

All right! There is the beginning of another one of my ill-constructed Modern AUs. Hope you all got interested after that chapter. Next part will be more detailed, and we get to meet Astrid Hofferson, the 'hostage.' Hope you all enjoyed this so far and, as always, follow, fav, and review!

 **Over.**

NatB.


	2. Execute

OK, I was really surprised that people liked the first chapter! I honestly wasn't expecting any response at all, since this one started off so unusually. Anyway, here is Chapter 2, and I am disappointed to say that it is probably the last chapter I will post on this story for a while. I already had it written, and I need to focus on my other two stories rather than this one. My apologies! And once more, feel free to scream and yell at me about how bad my portrayal of the military is. _I repeat that I know NOTHING about anything military related._

 **Further Disclaimers:**

I go on to state that I know nothing of Afghan culture or how Afghans live, or even exactly what language they speak. Events in this chapter would probably be considered absurd by anyone who knows about the way Afghanistan's cities operate. This is a fiction story that will not make complete sense AT ALL.

Also, I have no idea on what exactly the American government does with retired Agents, but I bet it's NOT what is described in this chapter. Once again, this is all completely MADE UP by me.

 _Anything written in italics mean that an Afghan language is being spoken, most likely Pashto. Just FYI._

 **A huge thanks to all the reviewers!**

BloodshotJW – I am updating right now! :)

TidePoolAngel – Thanks! I hope it gets even more interesting here soon!

jlrdsr – Thanks so much for the support. Yeah, I tried to do my best and make the sassy trash-talking on the radios funny. Over.

Agent Khizar – Medal of Honor accepted! Ha ha. If you have a similar story in mind, you should post it! I bet it could be ten times better than this one. Yeah, and Astrid does have blue eyes. This used to be a non-HTTYD story that I had just written out for fun, and when I switched it to a Hiccstrid I forgot to change the eye color of the supposed 'hostage'. My bad. And sure, I'll be more than happy to PM you with any questions whenever I get around to writing Chapter 3. Over.

Foster117 – Thanks a lot! I hope it will be cool too.

Guest No.1 – All right! Hopefully this chapter meets your expectations.

Guest No.2 – Yes, I made a mistake there. Astrid does have blue eyes. As I said to Khizar, this used to be a non-HTTYD story that I had just written out for fun, and I forgot to change the eye color of the supposed 'hostage'. My bad. I've gone and edited it to be correct, BTW.

Guest No.3 – Yeah, I wasn't sure how a lot of people would react to that odd-looking format for a first chapter. Sorry if it was a little tough to follow. This one is better in that regard.

LunnaValley22 – I'm glad you liked it! Read on to see the results of this mission :)

WalterMittyEsq – I am updating right now! :)

Thanks so much, all you people!  
NatB.

* * *

 ***TWO HOURS EARLIER***

* * *

 **Time: 1600 hours  
Location: Kabul International Airport, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **34.551769, 69.218318)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"Name, Miss?"

"Astrid Hofferson."

"Passport, please?"

"Right here." Astrid handed the security officer her well-kept passport, and stood still while the man went over her papers, inspecting them carefully.

"American, eh?" The officer spoke good English but with a marked Afghan accent.

"That's right, officer." Astrid spoke curtly and short.

"And what is the purpose of your visit here in Afghanistan, Miss Hofferson?"

"I'm on vacation. I promised my friend that I'd come by and visit her whenever I got the chance. She lives in Golbahar, and I haven't seen her for eight years."

"Ah, old friends."

"That's right, Officer."

"All right. Your papers look to be in order. Welcome to Kabul, Miss Hofferson." He handed Astrid back her passport.

"Thank you, Officer." Astrid retrieved her passport and strapped it around her neck once more, picking up her bag. The security officer spoke once more.

"I wish you a safe and happy trip, Miss Hofferson, but I am afraid I must warn you also. Due to recent developments with my government and yours, you should be aware that some people around here do not – appreciate the presence of Americans. You can understand that, I hope?"

"I was – aware of that before I came here, Officer. However, I thank you for the caution. I'll be careful, I can assure you of that."

"You are welcome, Miss Hofferson. Once again, enjoy your stay in Kabul, and I hope you and your friend have a wonderful time together. Next!"

Shouldering her bag, Astrid strode through the last of the security barriers and found her way through the doors and out into the dusty road. There were plenty of transport cars and taxis awaiting the arrival of new passengers, and Astrid hailed the nearest one, got in and spoke from her Pashto translating book.

" _Umm, you speak Pashto_?" She questioned the pleasant-looking man in faltering Pashto.

" _Yes_!" the driver smiled, looking back at her. " _Where can I take you, miss_?" He gestured out the window, still with a big smile on his face.

Astrid consulted her book again for the right words.

" _Umm, Golbahar."_ She said, uncertain of her pronunciation. _"I want go to Golbahar."_

 _"_ _Ah, Golbahar!"_ The man nodded emphatically. _"Yes, I can take you there. Long trip, miss."_ He stretched out his arms to try and explain to Astrid.

 _"_ _Yes,"_ Astrid answered, handing him a map with her exact destination on it. _"I want go to there. Want see, umm, friends? Yes. See friends."_

 _"_ _Yes, yes! I can go there,"_ the man nodded and took the map from her. _"It will cost three thousand Afghanis."_ He put three fingers in the air to make his meaning clear.

 _"_ _Yes,"_ Astrid replied. _"Three thousand. It is fine. Take me?"_

 _"_ _Yes!"_ the driver smiled, and started the car with a roar. In a few seconds Astrid was rolling down the highway to meet her old friend.

 **Time: 1659 hours  
Location: Bagram Airbase, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: ****(34.944168, 69.273331)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"Agent Haddock, are you go?"

"Roger that, Tuff. You and Thug are on Strike 1 duty for this mission, right?"

"That's right, Henry," Thomas(Tuff) Thorston said, strapping on his Afghan militia disguise. "We've got your ass covered, sniper boy. We're the best backup in the damn country."

"April Fools was two weeks ago, Tuff." Henry replied with a straight face.

"Haddock, you need to shut your smart mouth," Tuff growled, checking his pistol. "Seriously, are you capable of understanding the words 'serious operation'?"

"I've been a sniper for seven years, boys," Henry grinned, pulling on his boots. "And you guys just finished getting out of diapers back at Fort Rich. I think I have the authority on what a 'serious operation' is."

"Wait, you aren't calling this serious?" Thuggory(Thug) Butcher demanded. "Here we are, in the middle of Afghanistan getting disguised as Afghan militia in order to eliminate a family of terrorists that are camped out in a civilian area in Golbahar, and you are treating it as if it's a goddamn game. I really don't get you, Haddock. According to the mission briefing, you're going to have to kill two women in there, and one of them is barely into her hijab. I wouldn't have the heart to pull the trigger if I were you."

Henry was silent for a second, and then replied quietly.

"Look, boys, I've been on more kill missions then you could possibly imagine. I'm wanted for over fifty assassinations in forty different countries. I've killed everyone there is to kill – from an old president of a European bank to a blue-eyed toddler who was still in pampers. I'm used to it by now. Killing means nothing to me anymore. I can pull the trigger and have no regard for who's on the other end of the bullet. Call me a psychopath, but the US Government is doing the best they can to keep their people, us, safe. If that means ordering me to shoot women, well then, it's what I have to do. Hell, whatever happened to equal treatment, anyway."

Tuff shook his head. "I don't get you either, Haddock. What possessed a guy like you to stay in the Special Forces? Jesus, you're strong, you're handsome, good with the ladies, you could fucking do whatever the hell you wanted in life. You must be loaded after all the crazy shit you've had to do. Why don't you fucking retire, settle down, maybe get married while you're still young? If I were in your shoes I'd do it in the blink of an eye. Why are you even here right now?"

Henry sighed. "I'll never be able to settle down, Tuff. Sure, I've seen and was interested in a lot of girls, but none of them were exactly what I'm looking for. Marriage isn't appealing to me right now. But that's not the main reason. Like I said, I'm a psycho. I'm a ruthless killer. Who the hell would marry me after knowing what it is I do? And I know so much about the US Army operations. If I quit now -" He shook his head.

"What do mean, Henry?" Thug asked, strapping his helmet under his chin.

Henry looked up grimly. "Our country is free, happy, and prosperous, but, like all countries, it's not perfect. When I'm discharged, what will happen? I know WAY too much to simply be let loose. I would be under constant surveillance from NSA, FBI, and the CIA, not to mention our dear friends at the Pentagon. Ironic, isn't it? I have fought for so many years and risked my life countless times for this country so that Americans could be FREE. And yet, when I get out of here, if I ever do, I will never get to experience the liberty I've fought so hard for. NSA will be breathing fire down my neck for the rest of my life. Hell, they may even take me out."

"What the hell!?" Tuff said angrily. "What are you talking about? They can't take you out, not after all you've done for them!"

"Who'd ever know?" Henry asked, snapping the buckles of his weapons case. "I can see the newspaper story already. Picture this: 'Long time US Army agent Henry Haddock was found dead in his Florida home last Tuesday, shot twice in the head. Local police have no leads and the investigation is in progress.' Sound familiar? Yep. You've all seen those before, right? You all follow the news. Isn't it funny how obvious it is sometimes? The police investigate strange murders until they hit the rock solid wall of the FBI or NSA. Then they back the fuck off and nothing ever comes of it. Everyone knows that the government pulls off thousands of unsanctioned kill missions, even in their own damn country. Do either of you two remember Chad Thompson? He was Special Ops five years ago, retired? Ever hear of him?"

Tuff and Thug shook their heads. "No."

"That's because he's dead. He was murdered in his own house two months ago in Nebraska. No one has a clue as to who did it or how. The police are 'baffled'." Henry grinned. "But I know the truth. Only a Special Ops force could have gotten in and out as fast as that killer did. The US Army killed Chad, only a year after he was doing the exact same thing for them."

Thug was staring. "In the name of God, why?"

Henry shrugged. "Chad was starting to talk. He was starting to go to the bar every Friday, would get drunk, and blab about his old military operations. He was starting to write, too. He had some old memoirs of his time in the military that he had been working on for a few months. Interestingly, the books weren't found anywhere after his death. Coincidence? Hell no."

Tuff sat utterly still.

"So," Henry laughed, standing up, "when you're in the Special Forces you've gotta watch your six. Oh, I'm sure the government will let me live when I get out, they're not that heartless, but only until I'm a potential security risk. Then I'll be taken out, too. It's the way of the US regime and the entire world."

Henry was on his feet, but his Strike Force was still sitting silently on the bench, staring up at him.

"What?" Henry asked, spreading his hands. "Come on, we all know it goes on. Our politicians aren't saints, and neither are we. Don't be acting all offended that they're cheating us by not giving us the freedom we fight for. Sadly, life doesn't exactly work that way. The only thing I can suggest is that you two never become a sniper or a special agent or anyone who could ever be considered a potential threat to revealing top secret information. Hell, it may already be too late for you. You'll definitely be closely monitored when you get discharged. But forget about it. Let's go and kill some terrorists."

 **Time: 1727 hours  
Location: Golbahar, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **36.569931, 59.161591)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"Astrid? Is it really you?!"

"Salima! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

Astrid leaped across the sill of the Afghan home and embraced her friend from so long ago. They had not seen each other since they were both twelve.

"Astrid, where did you come from?" Salima smiled. "I haven't seen you for about ten years!" Salima released her friend and looked at her with happiness.

"I'm on vacation," Astrid grinned. "And I promised you all that time ago that I'd stop and see you whenever I got a chance. I'm a Hofferson, I never go back on my word. I'm surprised you can still speak English after so long!"

"Obviously you don't go back on your promises," Salima laughed. "And, as for English, you are in luck. I came back and taught my whole family the language. Now we use it often to keep privacy with our neighbors. It is sometimes difficult to keep silly rumors from spreading around here."

"Wow!" Astrid exclaimed. "So both your mom and your dad speak English, too? That's awesome!"

"Yeah, you should come meet them!" Salima said. "Come on in!"

She closed the door behind the two of them, only seconds before a pair of US army binoculars were trained on the house, signifying the beginning of Special Forces operation Z-COM-8.

 **Time: 1744 hours  
Location: Golbahar, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **36.569541, 59.163451)** **  
Recording: US Military radio 45B  
Operation: Z-COM-8  
Date: April 13, 2017**

 **US Army Base:** "Strike Team, you are cleared to proceed. Over."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Roger that, Team Leader. Haddock, you ready to bail?"

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Any day now, Tuff."

 **Strike Force 1:** "Then let's get out of this damn car and get to our positions."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Right. As soon as we pass this building up here we jump it and move to the target location. Copy that, driver?"

 **Strike Force Driver:** "Copy, Agent Haddock. I'll stop the car up here and you can hop it. Then I'll drop Strike 1 by the shop on the other side."

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Roger that. Team Leader, I am preparing to exit the vehicle. Over."

 ***Radio Silence - 02 seconds***

 **Strike Force 1:** "Hey Haddock, you know if something goes wrong, we've got your back, right?"

 **Strike Force Sniper:** "Sure thing, Tuff. Driver, stop the vehicle. I'm going out. Weapon in possession. Operation Z-COM-8 is in progress. Over."

 **Time: 1800 hours  
Location: Golbahar, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **36.569931, 59.161591)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"So how was your trip, Astrid? Was it eventful?" Salima's mother asked.

"It was rather dull, actually," Astrid replied. "I was having a really good time in Paris, but they didn't handle my flight very well. We got delayed for two hours before we even took off. But it wasn't bad after that. A few stopovers, and now I'm here." She took another bite of her Afghan food, which was very good.

"Well, we hope you will enjoy your stay," Salima's father, Fahim, commented. The entire family spoke very good English, especially for Afghans. "However, I'm surprised you showed up at a time when our two countries have so much – should I say – _friction_ between them _._ It is dangerous for Americans to be around here at this particular time. War may be declared at any moment, and when it is, any Americans on our soil will most likely be instantly taken as Prisoners of War by our dear Afghan government."

Astrid nodded, chewing her food slowly.

"I was aware," she said, "that there was a slight risk in my coming here. However, I did my homework on the recent US-Afghan relations, and I came to the conclusion that a declaration of war, while it is still possible, is highly unlikely. The only reason the United States is currently involved in your affairs is because they suspect many of the terrorist group Al Qaeda and other such rogue militia members are in hiding in your country. While this is causing lots of civilian unrest, especially here, such a belief is hardly a prelude to war."

"Aha!" Fahim laid down his fork. "Salima, you have a smart friend. Astrid, I did not look to see such intelligence from someone your age. That was a very accurate assessment of our country's relations, although it does have a few flaws. You have been well educated, I see."

Astrid looked down at the compliment.

"Well, I'm still attending college," she stated. "I'm almost done with my degree at Stanford. I'm only 20, but I'm usually up to par on my knowledge of the world, especially when it may mean hostilities between nations. War is dangerous these days, Fahim. Ever since the emergence of the nuclear bomb, war has become – shall I say – rather un-primitive. For instance, there is no more of the fierce hand-to-hand combat that we all read about in the old conflicts like our American Civil War. It is all long distance fighting now. We can fire missiles around the world with the press of a button. I fear that if nuclear war begins, no one, not even innocents, shall survive. It's unreal."

Fahim nodded sadly. "Alas, the nuclear threat has thrown a terror over almost every nation. Some can argue, 'why not simply target every other country's supply of nukes and then hit them with all we have? This way we are the only country in existence.' However, if that were to be done, it would have had to have happened as soon as the bombs were invented, and now it is too late. It is impossible for every nuclear weapon to be accounted for. They are stashed on submarines that are invulnerable to any nuclear attack. Underground bases, satellite launching, and other technologies allow no one to be safe. I am afraid the nuclear threat is the only thing that maintains world stability."

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'stable', father," Salima laughed.

"Far from it," Fahim replied. "Here in Afghanistan the threat of being bombed is much higher than in your dear America, Astrid. We all feel rather strongly about the current events and the global warfare that exists. I have said time and again that -"

Fahim's head exploded.

It snapped forward with an instantaneous motion, and blood sprayed from his forehead all over the clean white tablecloth. Astrid stared in speechless horror as Fahim collapsed to the table, blood gushing from a hole in his head.

In the same instant, Salima's mother screamed and fell also, a bullet tearing through her skull and hitting the wall behind her with a crack. The body fell from the chair and onto the floor with a thud. Astrid yelled and started to reach for Salima, and then something wet splashed all over the side of Astrid's face.

Astrid whirled to look at her friend, and stared in horror at what she saw. Salima's upper chest was a mess of blood. Her friend was falling from her chair to the floor, and Astrid caught her and eased her down.

"Salima!" she shouted, kneeling by her friend. "Salima! Can you hear me!?"

Salima, looking up at her with agonized eyes, took one last shuddering gasp for breath.

"Allah Akbar!" she whispered, and died in Astrid's arms.

Astrid looked up in terror. She had heard no shots. It was obviously a sniper; but he must have had a silencer for the gun and he had also been exceptionally deadly. Whoever fired those rounds had gotten off three rounds and two headshots in less than three seconds. Astrid then realized that he could be pointing the rifle at her as she knelt by the table. Maybe her head was the next to get blown off. Terrorized of the thought, she leapt under the table and got to cover, curling up into a ball.

She thought of screaming for help, but it seemed like the wrong thing to do at the time. The sniper could have blown her head off by now if he wanted to, and maybe if she sounded the alarm he would do it at once. Apparently he was only after Salima's family. But would they let her live to tell the tale?

Something hit the floor next to Astrid, and she jumped. Staring, she realized that it was only the steady drip, drip of blood seeping through the cracks in the table and onto the floor. Fahim's blood was leaking down from the top. Shuddering with nausea, Astrid realized that Salima's blood was dripping down her own face. It was sickening and horrific.

Then the door burst open with a crash, and Astrid screamed. A hand reached under the table, grabbed her by her arm, and hauled her up. Staring in fear, Astrid saw a uniform of an Afghan militiaman. The man wasn't big, but he was taller than she was, and looked like he meant business. Across his back was strapped a sniper rifle that had apparently been used to kill Salima's family. While he was dressed as an Afghan militiaman, did not look Afghan. His freckled, hardened face was clearly American, with a mop of shaggy brown hair over his helmetless head. He had a pistol in his hand, and he twisted her around, clapped his hand over her mouth, and pointed the weapon at her head.

"Not a sound, blondie, or I'll blow you to kingdom come!" he hissed in Astrid's ear. "Strike 1, I am moving from the house to the extraction point. I have the hostage secure. Over."

Grabbing Astrid's arm, he hauled her out the door, through the house, and towards the front door. Astrid made no move to resist. She was only paying attention to the man who held her firmly in his grip, and the gun that was pressed against her temple. She was frozen in shock and fear, and the man had to drag her off.

The man was speaking again, with one hand to his ear.

"Confirm, Strike 1, is the street clear? Repeat, is the street clear? Over."

He paused by the front door.

"Roger that, Strike 1," he said, replying to someone over the radio. "I am crossing the street with the hostage in three seconds. Cover my ass or I'll have yours. Over."

Shoving her out, the man sprinted across the street with her in tow. She tried to run with him, but the man's hand was clamped firmly over her mouth and she couldn't breathe properly. Also, her legs refused to work. She was so terrified she could barely stand. Basically being dragged across the street with her mouth covered, she quickly ran out of air.

"Strike 1, get your ass to the extraction point!" The man snapped over his radio as he dashed into the building on the other side of the street, Astrid with him. "Strike 2's arrival is in one minute, and I have the hostage ready to move out! Team Leader, report to the Colonel that the hostage is in possession, repeat, hostage is in possession. Over."

He loosened his hand over Astrid's mouth and spoke to her.

"Listen, blondie, I'm US Special Forces. We're here to get you to safety. No screaming, no noise, and you'll be fine. You're safe now, we'll be out of here in one minute. Are you going to be quiet?"

Astrid nodded, tugging on the man's strong forearm. She needed air.

"All right, blondie. Not a sound or you'll be shot. Strike 1, what's your damn status? Over."

The man released her mouth, but kept one strong arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders so she couldn't run away. Astrid gasped for air, her chest heaving. Behind her she heard boots thudding, and she twisted her head to see who it was.

It was two men, both tall and muscled, and wearing the gear of Afghan militia. One was big and the other was skinny. The big one had short cropped brown hair and a gruff beard. The thin one was clean shaven and had long blonde hair that spilled out from behind his helmet. Both carried Uzi machine guns and loaded pistols. They were also American soldiers, evidently the 'Strike 1' force that the sniper had spoken to.

"Took your time, boys," the man holding Astrid growled, loosening his grip on her shoulders. "I've been waiting for you lazy asses to get over here for a full damn minute. What the hell were you doing, jerking each other off?"

"Hey, we were covering you and the girl, Haddock," the man with the blonde hair grinned. "It takes a little longer when you actually do shit right." He gestured at Astrid's face. "Is that her blood?"

Agent Haddock shook his head.

"No. She just got dusted. I think she's in a little shock, too."

"Well, no shit, Haddock. Seeing your ugly face for the first time I nearly had a heart attack, too."

"No, I'm serious. I think she may be froze up. Hey, blondie," he asked, coming in front of her and laying his hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me. Are you OK?"

Astrid could only nod, she was still gasping for breath. The shock of the horror that she just witnessed was in fact having a toll on her, and she was beginning to tremble all over. The man was right; she had been shaken up.

"OK, I need you to tell me how many fingers I'm holding up, blondie. OK?" The man held up two fingers on his right hand.

"Two," Astrid answered, still panting.

"Perfect, now can you tell me your name, blondie?" The man still held his fingers up.

"Astrid Hofferson," Astrid said. She was beginning to get her breath back.

"Cool." The man adjusted his fingers so that only his middle finger remained. He showed it to her. "OK, what am I doing right now?"

"You're flipping me off," Astrid replied, allowing a small laugh to escape her trembling lips.

"All right, girl. You're good. Come here." The man pulled her into a hug, and Astrid felt herself slipping over the edge. The shock of what had just happened caught up with her, and she started to shake and cry, clinging tightly to the man's uniform.

"Hey, you're OK," the man said softly, rocking her back and forth in his arms. "We're not going to hurt you, Astrid. You're safe now."

"Strike 2 Evac is going to be here in 10 seconds," the big man with the beard said.

"Sounds good, Thug," the man holding Astrid answered. "On arrival, I'll take the hostage and get her in first. Then we fucking bail. I want to get out of here before there's any remote hint of those bodies being found, and that damn woman screamed. Copy that, Thug?"

"Copy, Haddock. I can see the Humvees. They're on their way. Prepare for extraction."

"All right," the man holding Astrid said. He stroked her shoulder. "Astrid, I need you to listen to me, OK? Did they hurt you in there? Can you walk all right?"

Astrid shook her head, tears still coming out. "I'm too – scared," she whispered.

"All right, stay calm, Astrid," the man said soothingly. "We're going to get you out of here, OK. Just take it easy." He bent down and picked her up, holding her in his arms.

"Humvees are here!" the blonde man announced. "Get her out there now, Haddock."

Holding Astrid in his strong arms, the man kicked open a door and Astrid found herself directly in front of a sand-colored military truck. Soldiers were jumping out and preparing for action, all of them heavily armed.

"Agent Haddock, get the hostage in the back!" one of them shouted. "Strike 1, get in the front Humvee. Step on it!"

"Roger that," the man holding her said. He sprinted around to the back of the second Humvee, where the rear door was open. Two men were sitting on the floor of the truck, waiting for her.

"Get her in here!" one of them shouted. "Is the hostage injured, Agent Haddock? Miss, is that your blood?"

"I'm fine," Astrid told them shakily. "They didn't touch me. I wasn't a – a hostage. I was just visiting."

"God fucking dammit!" one of the men shouted. "She wasn't a hostage. Shit!"

"Wait, hold on a minute," the man holding her said. He put her down in the back of the Humvee and squatted down to look her in the eyes. You weren't a hostage, blondie?"

"No!" Astrid cried, her face lined with terror. "I was just visiting them! I'm a friend! I'm not a hostage!"

"Well, you are now," Agent Haddock grinned. And he shut the door on her.

* * *

All right! Chapter 2 is complete, and, as I said before, a new chapter probably won't show up for a month or so. I'm trying to work on my other two Fanfictions in my free time. If you liked this one, go check them out. They're called **_Captain Hiccup_** and **_Running with Fate_**. Both are HTTYD, and one is an AU.

Follow, Fav, and Review! I LOVE reviews! Keep them coming! :)

 **Over.**

NatB.


	3. Agent Haddock

Hello!  
I'm back quicker than expected. Needed a break from my other stories and decided to chug away at this one. I got hooked! Shit really starts to go down now. I'm going to LOVE this story. :) But once more, I cannot promise a prompt update. I most likely will go back to the other stories and forget this one for a while. Sorry again! :(  
Once again, I have NO knowledge of the military or any such stuff, so feel free to laugh at my stupid attempts to try and show it! LOL.

And sorry, Eagles fans, about what I say about your team in this chapter. No offense. Go Seahawks!

 **A huge thanks to the reviewers! Replies below!**

Khizar: Thank you Thank you! I hope your story is coming along well! :) And yeah, I LOVE the cocky, confident Hiccup.

Foster117: I was able to continue sooner than expected. Much sooner, in fact. I'm glad you like it.

TidePoolAngel: The plot just keeps getting thicker! I LOVE it!

zellawinston: Wow! Thank you! *Blushes* Hope you keep enjoying!

jlrdsr: Yeah, they're taking her now. Heck yeah. I'm really glad you though the combat stuff was convincing. I was concerned that it would be too stupid for anyone to like. So glad you like it!

Meyssa: Thank you Thank you! I'm glad you like my Hiccups.

tjjenkins: I am glad it keeps improving! Hopefully you like this chapter just as well.

: You get to see Astrid's reaction in this chapter! I'm glad you like it!

 **Thanks so much, all you people!  
NatB.**

* * *

 **Time: 1923 hours  
Location: Bagram Airbase, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (34.944168, 69.273331)  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"This way, miss."

The man was walking Astrid down a hallway. It was dark, but only because Astrid's head was covered in black bag, blindfolding her. The man was keeping one hand on her shoulder and another on the small of her back, and Astrid was confident that there were two others walking alongside her. She would have reached out to touch them, but her hands were cuffed in front of her.

"Right this way," the man said, and opened a door. Astrid was pushed in, the blindfold still over her face, and the door closed. There was silence for a second, and then a new, authoritative voice spoke.

"Release her."

Astrid felt a key inserted into her handcuffs, and in a second they were off, freeing her wrists. Then someone jerked the bag from over her head, and she raised her hands to shield her eyes from the light. Slowly recovering her vision, she squinted ahead at a man, sitting at a desk in a wood-themed room. A US flag hung behind him, and he wore the decorated uniform of an officer. He was heavily muscled and had an ugly face with a black beard. One hand was on a computer mouse, and the other held an open folder.

"Who are you?" Astrid asked, still blinking uncertainly. "Why I am being treated this way by my own country? I did nothing wrong at all."

The man with the beard was not even looking at her. Instead, he was staring at a computer screen on his desk.

"You are Astrid Hofferson," he stated, reading from the computer. "Twenty years old, five foot ten inches, 120 pounds. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Native country, United States of America. Place of birth, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Graduated with honors from Berk High School in Springfield, Missouri. Currently taking college courses at Boise State University on an academic scholarship."

He paused. "At 1100 hours today you boarded Flight 543 from Paris to Kabul, landing at Kabul International Airport at 1600 hours this evening. From there, you then took a taxi to Golbahar, where you visited an old Afghan friend from a special summer school that you attended in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania."

He turned from the computer and looked at her with hard, cold eyes.

"And then _fucked_ up a MAJOR Special Forces operation."

He tossed a folder on the desk angrily, folding his arms.

"What the hell am I going to do with you, Miss Hofferson?"

Astrid bit her lip. "Look, Mr. -"

"Colonel. Colonel Jorgenson, US Special Forces."

"Well, Colonel, I know nothing of what occurred today," Astrid said emphatically. "I was only visiting a friend and had no knowledge of ANYTHING whatever! Why I am I being dragged through this – building and questioned like this, by my own United States?" She flared up. "And why on earth did your men kill Salima?"

Colonel Jorgenson, a scowl on his ugly face, gestured to a chair with a thick, muscled arm.

"Sit down, Miss Hofferson," he commanded stonily.

Astrid complied, and the two men who had brought her in stepped up to either side of her, and yet out of her range of vision. Astrid felt intimidated by their presence. She also felt that they were doing it deliberately.

The Colonel was still for a second, and then his voice cracked at her like a whip.

"Miss Hofferson, were you aware that Salima Faimahir was a dangerous terrorist?"

Astrid was startled by his vicious tone, but she answered, swallowing.

"No. I only knew Salima as a sweet, loving girl. She was my best friend when we were twelve."

The Colonel allowed a thin smile to cross his lips. "Well, that 'sweet, loving' girlfriend of yours was deeply involved in the smuggling of explosives and bombs into the hands of dangerous terror groups such as Al Qaeda. If we had not eliminated her and her family, it may have resulted in the deaths of hundreds of innocent American civilians."

Astrid licked her lips. "I knew nothing of that."

"I'm sure you didn't," the Colonel frowned. "And our background check on you and your family revealed nothing that could possibly be considered a remote hint that you were an accomplice or a terrorist in any way. The US Army does not suspect you of terrorism. Our issue lies in another, more serious matter."

He leaned forward, his hawk eyes leveled at Astrid.

"We are the Special Forces, Miss Hofferson. As you just witnessed, our methods of keeping our country safe are swift, efficient, and deadly. We have a difficult job. We must act with complete impunity, and yet with unlimited discretion. Sometimes these actions involve taking steps that are – illicit. You are a smart girl; you understand what I mean, am I correct?"

Astrid nodded. "What you do is illegal."

The Colonel leaned back once more, and droned a sentence that sounded like it was coming from a tape recorder.

"We act with needed security and convenience for the American people. In so doing, we do our utmost to abide by all laws and regulations, but in some circumstances the US government may deem it necessary to discard the laws of the country in order to protect it."

He leaned forward again. "Not illegal, Miss Hofferson. No. It is MUCH _worse_ than that. What you just observed this evening is considered an act of _war_ , an unsanctioned hit against the Afghan nation. If knowledge of this operation becomes known to the public or the Afghan government, things may come to a very - serious conclusion." He rose to his feet. "Miss Hofferson, having witnessed my soldiers in action, you are in possession of information that could be inherently dangerous to both the Special Forces and our entire country. If you had been a hostage, we would have had full justification in our actions today, and I would never have had to worry about this. However, since you were not a hostage, we have now committed anaggressive procedure that must NEVER become known to ANYONE." He tapped his finger on the table to stress his position.

"When faced with this dilemma, I had two choices, Miss Hofferson," he continued. "First, I could free you with the warning never to inform anyone of this, and monitor your presence for enough time to conclude that you will never inform or the information becomes unnecessary to remain hidden. The second, which is much cheaper - and which I prefer - is I could have you executed on the spot, right now."

Astrid gasped in horror, staring up at the big man. "What?!" she asked, terrified. "You would kill me for doing nothing?"

The Colonel was stone-faced. "Yes, Miss Hofferson. I could kill you, and if there was any remote HINT of information from your files that suggested you would notify anyone of this operation, then I would have done it already. However, you are an exemplary American citizen. As such, I am obliged to free you. But -"

He walked around his desk and faced her, leaning down so that his bearded, ugly face was inches from hers.

"But we will still monitor you closely, until the Pentagon sees fit to call off the surveillance. If you unveil this secret mission in any way, then you are GONE." He slid a thick finger across his throat. "You will be eliminated at ONCE, Miss Hofferson, mark my words."

Astrid nodded, unable to speak for fear. The Colonel straightened up. "Very well. This is what happened, Miss Hofferson. You flew to Afghanistan from Paris, landed in Kabul, and took a taxi to Golbahar in hopes of meeting your old friend. She no longer lived at the same address, and you left that night and returned to Paris. _No military operation ever occurred_. Do I make myself clear?"

Astrid nodded again. "Very clear. I fully understand."

The Colonel smiled approvingly. "Be aware, Miss Hofferson, that the United States holds no grudge against you. We will have to monitor you closely for some time, but it is all for the purpose of preserving this great nation and not to annoy or invade your privacy in any way. You are still a citizen, and we will protect you as much as any other. So, to ensure your safe departure from Kabul, a Special Forces Agent will accompany you on your flight back to Paris, which leaves -"he checked his watch – "In thirty minutes. You have been assigned a seat on the flight, and your baggage, which was removed from the scene of operation, is already on it."

He rose to his feet and extended his hand.

"Once more, Miss Hofferson, I repeat that the United States does not hold you accountable for your actions today. However we will most certainly hold you accountable if you tell anyone of the event or of these proceedings that have just taken place. But for now, The Special Forces thanks you for your cooperation."

Astrid rose and shook the Colonel's hand. "Thank you for not killing me," she said seriously.

The man smiled, still shaking her hand.

"I am Special Forces, but I can still be human, Miss Hofferson. I hope you have a safe flight back to Paris."

"Thank you."

The Colonel released her hand, and then gestured to the two men who had escorted her in.

"See to it that Miss Hofferson is cleaned up and made presentable," he said. "That blood on her face needs to go. We cannot have anyone even dreaming that she was involved in the operation that just took place. Clean her up, buy her lipstick or makeup or whatever it is that American girls wear these days. God knows what my daughter uses."

Astrid allowed a smile.

"I should be fine after a little wash-up," she said. "I don't think I need any luxuries to make myself look myself. Besides, I don't really have time. My flight leaves in thirty minutes, is that what you said, Colonel Jorgenson?"

The Colonel nodded. "That is correct. A top-notch Special Forces Agent will come to escort you to the airport and then he will accompany you on the flight to Paris. You will be taken to the hospitality room in a few moments and this Agent will meet you there. Godspeed, Miss Hofferson."

"Thank you Colonel," Astrid said again. "It was nice to meet you."

"I wish I had never laid eyes on YOU," the Colonel replied with a smile. "But there is nothing we can do about that now. Get out. I have work to do." He sat down at his desk and picked up a phone.

Touching her arm, the two men motioned her out of the office. Turning, she went. With a deep, shaking breath, she exited the office and found herself in a sitting area. One of the soldiers led her to a cushioned seat, and Astrid was more than happy to sit down. She was severely shaken up.

"Can we get you anything, Miss Hofferson?" One of the soldiers asked her. "You're shivering. Maybe a cup of coffee, a coat, anything?"

Astrid nodded. "Yeah, can you just get me a wet towel so I can clean my face, and yeah, coffee would be nice."

The soldier nodded and walked into another room. Astrid, curious as to where she was, looked around. To her right was a desk at which a secretary worked headset on as she relayed calls in a dull, droning voice. In front of her was the Colonel's office, which she had just exited. And to her left was a door that led to a hallway.

A phone rang on the secretary's desk. She picked it up immediately.

"Yes, Colonel Jorgenson?" she asked. There was a pause as she listened. Then she answered. "Right away, Colonel."

She put down the phone and pressed a button on the desk. It allowed her voice to carry over the intercom.

"Strike Team Forces ONE and Special Agent Henry Haddock, please report to Colonel Jorgenson's office immediately. Repeat, Agent Haddock and Strike Force ONE, report to Colonel Jorgenson IMMEDIATELY. Over."

She released the button and resumed her work. Astrid was interested. She remembered that Strike Force 1 and Agent Haddock had been the men who had killed Salima and taken her out. She was curious as to why the Colonel wanted them there. Would they be charged with killing her if she told anyone?

As she thought this, the soldier from earlier returned, with a damp towel and a cup of coffee. He also held a blanket. Walking up to her, he threw the blanket over her shoulders and wrapped her up in it.

"You look cold, Miss," he said. "Here you are, some nice hot coffee. Hope you like cream."

Astrid smiled as she accepted the cup. "Thank you." She reached for the towel, but the man shook his head.

"I'll take care of the blood," he said. "You just relax, Miss."

Kneeling next to her, he dabbed at her cheek and the side of her head with the cloth, wiping off the dried, sticky blood that was still there.

As Astrid was being attended to, she heard footsteps in the hallway, and a door opened. Astrid looked up. Three men entered, their military boots thudding on the floor. Astrid recognized them immediately as the men who had performed the deadly operation. They had shed their guise of Afghan militia and were now clad in US Army khakis and green tee shirts. Each had a pistol on their belts.

Astrid recognized all three of them. The big man, with a brown beard, was looking ahead at the secretary. The blonde, long haired man, now without his helmet, looked almost like a girl. He was to the left of the man in the middle, who was clearly the alpha of the group.

His back was to Astrid, and he was staring at a picture of a US Air Force plane on the wall. None of the men could see Astrid, since she was behind the soldier that was cleaning her face.

The man with the beard was speaking to the secretary.

"Good evening, Maria. Is the Colonel ready for us?"

The secretary looked up at them. "Not yet, Agent Butcher. A few more minutes, I think." She shifted her gaze to the man in the middle, and a scowl came over her pretty face.

"Agent Haddock." She said sternly. "How many times have I told you NOT to smoke in Colonel Jorgenson's sitting room?!"

The man in the middle turned around. Sure enough, he was smoking a cigarette, a thin waft of smoke coming from the butt. His face was shielded with red-tinted sunglasses that hid his green eyes.

It was the sniper.

He exhaled a breath of smoke and replied with an unconcerned drawl.

"I don't know, Maria, maybe a thousand? Two thousand? What do you boys think?" He gestured to the two other men while sticking the cigarette back in his mouth.

"Three thousand," the blonde haired man grinned, dropping into a chair across from Astrid. "I don't get it, either. We just got back from a damn mission that almost went to shit because of some dumbass girl. Colonel Jorgenson needs to give us a break. I mean, he should at least let us smoke in here. Don't be that one mean secretary, Maria. It doesn't become a pretty face."

The secretary shifted her scowl to the blonde man. "And how many times have I told YOU, Agent Thorston, to stop flirting with me?" She demanded.

"Ten thousand," Agent Thorston answered promptly, and the room burst out laughing. The soldier cleaning her face lowered the rag to chuckle, and Astrid's face was unveiled.

"Hey, it's the girl," Agent Butcher said, pointing at her.

Astrid nodded at him, straightening up. "Yep. It's me."

The big man nodded approvingly. "I'm surprised you're still alive. The Colonel usually isn't so lenient with witnesses. Anyway, Agent Haddock here was just dreaming about you."

"Shut the fuck up, Thug," Agent Haddock grinned, the cigarette still in his mouth.

Agent Thorston laughed and addressed Astrid from his chair. "Agent Haddock is cocky man. He thinks every girl that sees him thinks he's hot. Is that true?"

Astrid looked up at the man. Come to think of it, he was hot. His lean, strong muscles were clearly defined through his green Army tee shirt, and he looked strong and handsome. But he was smoking a cigarette with a cocky grin on his face, and the tinted sunglasses shielded his eyes. Astrid answered.

"He might be hot if he took off the sunglasses," she stated. "And also if he stopped being a jerk to secretaries and took the damn cigarette out of his mouth."

"Ooooooohhh!" Thug (Agent Butcher) laughed, shouldering Agent Haddock. "Buuurrrrnnnn! Savage little lady we've got here. You'd better watch out, Haddock, or she'll fry you."

Agent Thorston looked shocked. "Wait, you don't dig the sunglasses?" He asked in amazement. "Sunglasses are the best! Sunglasses and sexy are one and the same. Here, don't I look hot with these on?"

From his pocket he pulled out a pair of aviators and placed them on the bridge of his nose. The room laughed again. Astrid, chuckling, replied.

"It's not bad, actually. Still looks better than Agent Haddock, Mr. -"

"Agent Thorston," the man grinned, taking off the glasses. "But call me Tuff. Want to hear my code name?" He leaned forward and whispered. "It's my phone number. 376 – 4554. Call me when you're in trouble and I'll be right at your door."

Astrid laughed as Tuff leaned back in his chair, a cheeky grin on his face.

"You military guys are crazy," she said, shaking her head.

"Damn right we are," Thug grinned. "Beards, babes, beer, and bullets. That's our motto."

Once more the room laughed.

"Beards are for guys who need help to improve their manliness," Agent Haddock said to Thug. "REAL men don't even need them."

"Oooh!" Tuff laughed. "Thug, you'd better watch out. Sniper boy will gun you down."

"So you were the sniper, Agent Haddock?" Astrid demanded.

The room froze.

Even the soldier dabbing at Astrid's cheek stopped moving. In fact, Agent Haddock had halted in the process of putting his cigarette in his mouth, and was staring at her through his glasses. Tension was high. Astrid didn't understand. What had happened?

After a full two seconds, Agent Haddock put the cigarette back in mouth and spoke again.

"What sniper? I don't recall any such military operation that you were involved in," he said quietly. "Do _you_ , Miss Hofferson?"

Astrid got it at once. Her eyes widened in horror. She had just admitted to being involved in the operation. The penalty was death for her. And Agent Haddock was offering her a way out. So she took it.

"I – I don't recall anything like that either," she stammered.

The room relaxed again, and activity resumed once more. The soldier began to dab at Astrid's cheek once more, but Agent Haddock's voice cracked like a whip.

"Belay that, soldier."

The soldier immediately obeyed, lowering the towel from Astrid's face.

Agent Haddock took two steps towards Astrid and whipped off his sunglasses, revealing menacing dark green eyes. With his other hand, he took the cigarette out of his mouth. He leaned down to talk to her.

"BE CAREFUL, Miss Astrid," he said quietly. "That was a VERY close call. Because yes, I AM a sniper. And I will most likely be sent to kill YOU if any agreement you reached with Colonel Jorgenson is breached." He pointed his cigarette at her. "And I have no love for shooting women. So I would _watch what you say_ , Miss Hofferson, or you'll find yourself on the receiving end of my rifle."

He snapped his glasses back on, covering the hard green eyes once more.

Maria, the secretary at the desk, cleared her throat to break the tense silence.

"Strike Team, Colonel Jorgenson will see you now," she stated.

Agent Haddock straightened up. Taking his cigarette, he pinched it out and handed it to the soldier who was with Astrid. He then snapped his fingers at Thug and Tuff.

Tuff got up from his seat, putting his aviators back in his pocket. Standing, he patted Astrid's shoulder before taking his spot behind Agent Haddock, who was also taking off his shades. Opening the door, the three men walked in, closing the door behind them. However, it did not close all the way, and Astrid, from her chair in the sitting room, could easily hear what was said. She was also curious, and leaned back a little so that she could look at the men through an open blind. The soldier finished cleaning her face and went to dispose of the towel. Astrid, sipping her coffee once more, cocked an ear and looked through the window. She saw the men.

The three Agents saluted. "Colonel Jorgenson, SIR!"

"At ease, soldiers." Colonel Jorgenson looked up at them from his desk, his cold black eyes meeting them. Astrid remembered what it was like to be looked at like that, and shivered. Colonel Jorgenson was a nice man, but he gave her the creeps.

Agent Haddock and his team relaxed, letting their shoulders loose. There were three seconds of silence as Colonel Jorgenson looked at each man individually.

"First," he said finally, "Allow me to applaud you on another highly successful operation."

Agent Haddock made no move. The Colonel continued. "It was completed quickly and efficiently, with no casualties and no alarms. Even when you were caught off guard by an abrupt mission alteration, you acted with tact and skill. Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," Agent Haddock replied.

"However," the Colonel went on, a scowl coming over his face, "It was brought to my attention that while the Strike 1 force operated with complete success, Agent Haddock made an abrupt and unexpected change in the plans without authorization."

Astrid could almost feel the glare of the Colonel as he stared at Haddock.

"Is that true, Agent Haddock?"

Agent Haddock's voice came through the door.

"True enough, sir. I saw that the plan laid out by Team Leader Frank was not the most efficient method of extracting the assumed hostage. With the safety of both my team and myself in mind, I altered the plans for the benefit of the operation."

"You altered the plans!" Colonel Jorgenson snapped.

"That is correct, sir. They were not orders, if you recall. Defying them and questioning them was not a breach of discipline, sir."

"Discipline my ass!" The Colonel roared. "Agent Haddock, are you aware that instructions are to be followed to the letter, at all times!?"

"Orders are, sir, but not instructions. The _poor_ decision to have Strike 1 retrieve the hostage from their position needed to be changed for the benefit of the team. The Special Forces never operate without the best plan in mind, sir."

"And of course, _you_ had the BEST plan," the Colonel sneered. "Let me tell you something, Agent Haddock. A good soldier OBEYS. He hears his commanding officer and treats him like GOD. He obeys the orders, or INSTRUCTIONS and does not think of the consequences. YOU, however, did exactly the opposite. As soon as Team Leader Frank issued those impromptu commands, the first thing that you did was question them!"

"Because they were stupid, sir."

"Agent Haddock, the soldier's job is NOT to think of the quality of the directives. You know that. Even so, you decided to extract the hostage yourself-"

"Wisely-" Haddock interrupted.

"Crossed the street with a high risk of being seen-"

"With excellent cover fire-"

"Entered the home by force, even after knowing that the suspects were down-"

"Acting with needed swiftness-"

"Seized and threatened the hostage-"

"Flawlessly extracted her-"

"Crossed the street to the extraction point with her in tow, regardless of who might have seen you-"

"With proper efficiency and speed."

"AGENT HADDOCK!"

The Colonel slammed his hand on the desk so hard that Astrid jumped.

"Agent Haddock, you need to watch your mouth."

"Sir!" Agent Haddock sounded upset. "I was dragged out of bed last night and told on the spur of the moment that I would have to come to fucking Golbahar and kill three people, including two women. I and my team were flown across the Atlantic at goddamn midnight, having to sleep in a rickety cot on an aircraft carrier and then shipped to this – place. We performed expertly, even in the face of complete disarray. I feel insulted, sir. I saved both yours and the Special Ops asses this evening, and THIS is how you repay me? Trying to tell me how I should have done it better? They haven't even found the damn bodies yet, sir."

There was silence. Then Colonel Jorgenson spoke again.

"I will overlook your comments, Agent Haddock. I am frustrated that you rejected the commands of senior officers, for that showed disrespect and bad soldier bearing. But you do make a point, and for that I will also overlook your actions during the operations this evening. You are to report to the barracks immediately. Dismissed."

"Colonel, if I may, sir." It was Tuff who spoke.

"Speak, Agent Thorston. And make it snappy. I'm busy," the Colonel barked.

"With respect, sir, I would like to request a vacation," Tuff said. "We had Venice last week and then Iran three days ago. Now it was Afghanistan today. We are the best soldiers, sir, but we do need a rest! Can you give us our months overdue leave that we have been promised?"

The Colonel chuckled. "Agent Thorston, you are a blunt man. But your request is granted. Agent Butcher and Agent Thorston, you are granted leave for a month. Go back to the US and relax. As always, don't go anywhere odd without informing us, and don't get sunburned. Otherwise, the time is yours. Stick your dicks up your asses or whatever it is you morons do in your free time."

"Sir, yes sir!" The three men answered.

"I wasn't talking to you, Agent Haddock," the Colonel frowned. "I have OTHER plans for YOU."

"Sir?" Agent Haddock sounded surprised.

"I have decided to see how closely you can follow not instructions, but ORDERS, Agent Haddock. So I have another mission for you."

"Just me?"

"Just you." The Colonel had a big grin on his face.

There was an audible sigh from Agent Haddock. "Yes sir." He replied. "Brief me."

Colonel Jorgenson spoke again.

"The hostage you rescued today was not, as you know, a hostage. She's an American girl that's on vacation in Paris. She needs to be escorted by an Agent back to Paris. Since you were so unsatisfactory in your tasks this evening, I have decided that that Agent will be _you_."

"Come on, sir! I'm a sniper, not a damn escort!" Agent Haddock was angry.

"You are now." The Colonel was enjoying himself hugely. "You're just an arrogant little wiener, Agent Haddock. Maybe this will tame your tongue – and your temper - a little bit. The orders are simple. A five hour flight on a commercial plane. She never leaves your sight. You know the drill."

"All too fucking well, sir."

"Here's her file." Astrid heard a folder get tossed on the desk. "You'll drive her to the airport and sit beside her on the plane. Monitor her safety until Paris. Then I will be lenient and let you do what you want for a week. However, stay tuned for another mission. We may have something for you."

He handed another folder to Agent Haddock.

"Who is this?" Agent Haddock demanded, pulling a photograph from the file.

"That is Vadim Marsiek, a known Afghan terrorist," the Colonel answered. "We suspect him to be interested in a recent plan to bomb certain areas in Paris. He is also, we just discovered, connected to the same family you just eliminated. If we catch wind of him in Paris, then you will be ordered to take him out. So be aware. You may be called on once more."

"Sir, yes sir."

"However, Agent Haddock, you need not be too concerned. You can relax in Paris for a week or so if we don't find him. You are due for leave as well. Anyway, the flight ticket has just been changed to your name. Your name has also been changed, of course. I've applied an appropriate alibi for you two, so you don't seem suspicious."

He touched keys on the keyboard for a few seconds and pressed enter. He then pulled a file out of a drawer and handed it to Agent Haddock.

"There is the new identification for you. The girl gets to keep her ID. Have fun, Agent Haddock."

"Permission to call you an asshole, Colonel?"

"Permission granted."

"Fine. You're an asshole, sir."

The Colonel laughed. "Yes I am, Agent Haddock. Here are the folders. She should be waiting for you right outside. Now get the fuck out of my office, and don't even think about bothering Maria, Agent Thorston."

"Aww, sir!" The blonde haired man whined.

"Yeah. Get the hell out, all of you, or I'll revoke your leave at once! Move your asses!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

There was a shuffling of feet, and then the door to the office opened again.

"Well, that was brutal, Haddock," Thug said grimly, as the trio stepped out. "Too bad for you, man. Another mission. I'll miss you. Jesus, you're going to be in Paris. But I guess we'll see you when the dog barks."

"Aye."

The two Agents shook hands.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Haddock," Tuff said. "Have a good one."

"And you." Grabbing Tuff's forearm, Agent Haddock pulled Tuff into a rough hug. "Catch you next time, bro."

Releasing Tuff, the two Strike Agents stepped back. Agent Butcher and Agent Thorston saluted.

"We'll be there to cover your ass whenever you call, sniper boy," Thug smiled.

Agent Haddock returned the salute. "I ring you up if I go back to Fort Rich, OK?" he answered. "Miss you guys."

The two Agents turned to go. Tuff said over his shoulder, "And don't be afraid to call me on the weekend, Maria. I'm always available."

"Agent Thorston, get out," Maria snapped.

"Yes, ma'am," Tuff grinned, and then the two men left. The door closed.

With a deep sigh, Agent Haddock turned to Astrid, a file in his hand. With a quick gesture, he motioned the two soldiers away. "Get lost, boys," he said. "She's my charge now."

Immediately the two soldiers with Astrid got up, saluted, and left.

"Hey, thank you guys for the coffee!" Astrid called after them. They turned at the door and saluted her. Then they left without a word.

Astrid shifted her gaze back to Agent Haddock. He was looking in the folder he held, flipping pages. Without looking up, he spoke to her.

"Well, Astrid Hofferson, eh? Let me see. Twenty years old, five foot ten inches, 120 pounds. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Native country, United States of America. Place of birth, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania." He looked up. "Philadelphia, huh? Are you an Eagles fan?"

Astrid grinned. "Nope. Seahawks."

"Goddamn it."

Astrid laughed. "Are _you_ an Eagles fan? Come on, they haven't won a Super Bowl in like ten years."

"Yea, will you just shut up about that?" he grinned, and then pulled out another folder. "It's not my fault the team sucks."

Astrid chuckled as Agent Haddock continued.

"I am now your professional escort, Miss Hofferson. I am ordered to accompany you, on your flight, to Paris and then I am free to go. I will be masquerading as someone else, so you will make no reference to my being a soldier, Astrid. Is it OK if I call you that?"

"Sure," Astrid replied. "As long as I can call you something other than Agent. I have to if I'm going to pretend you're someone else. What's your name, sniper boy?"

"Well, my real name is Henry," Agent Haddock answered with his cocky grin. "But I'm going to have a code name for the trip, so forget that. Let's see who the Colonel has decided to make me this time. I'm supposed to be 'undercover.' I'm guessing he made me a damn janitor or a schoolteacher so that I'm not considered a soldier."

Astrid laughed. "It would be REALLY fun to act as someone else for a little while. I'd love it."

"Well, you may have to," Agent Haddock answered. "This is a dual effort here. The Colonel might have changed me to be your brother or some shit like that."

"That sounds really cool. Come on, read it." Astrid was excited. She felt like she was in the middle of a Mission Impossible movie.

Agent Haddock raised his eyebrows as he stared at the paper he was holding. In his other hand he held a fake ID.

"You're not going to believe this," he muttered, shaking his head. "Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get ANY worse."

"What is it?" Astrid asked, putting down her coffee. "Who are you? What has your name been changed to? And do I get to pretend to be someone else?"

Henry Haddock looked up. "Who WE are, you mean. You are still the same. However, my name has been changed from Henry Haddock to Steve Hofferson." He grinned.

"And I'm now your husband."

* * *

HA HA HA! I'm throwing in a NEW plot twist! Mr. and Mrs. Hofferson coming up next chapter! Awesome! A cocky US Special Forces sniper and a smart, pretty girl are now on a five hour flight to Paris together! Fuck YEA! Look out for next chapter to see how this crazy stuff goes down. Review, follow, and fav if you like this story! See ya next time.

Yeah, and I remembered the blue eyes this time. :)

 **Over.**

NatB.


	4. Marry Me?

OK! Here we go, on with my neglected _Twin Bullets_. I was getting tired of my other stories, and this one was getting funny, so I wrote this chapter to entertain myself. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Read on, Hiccstrid lovers!

 **Replies to all the reviews, and thank you all for the support!**

Foster117: All right, you got RWF, and now here we go with Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy, and those nudges you give me work, BTW. LOL.

Elsa-rosa-may: Yeah, I like the twist too. Read on. Next chapter is here!

TidePoolAngel: I know nothing about football either. I'm a baseball and running guy. But football is big in the US, so I put that in there for fun. I have no particular reason why Henry/Hiccup would be an Eagles fan. Astrid's face – HA HA!

SharKohen: Yeah, I was honestly just too lazy to change both Astrid's and Henry/Hiccup's name, so I made Henry have Astrid's maiden name. Father wouldn't work – both are too young, but maybe that would have been funnier. And they might have let Astrid off too easy – I dunno, I know nothing about this stuff, like, literally nothing. I'm making all this military stuff up on a whim.

Agent Khizar: Thankee man! And yeah, Hiccup is a cocky guy, ain't he! Fun stuff on the way! I'm pumped.

thearizona: Thank you! Here's what I came up with. LOL. Yeah, I LOVED writing the conversation with the Colonel. 'Permission to call you an asshole?' I absolutely loved it. So glad you like this one! Keep reviewing!

tjjenkins: Because funny stuff is about to happen? I don't know, read on and see!

jlrdsr: Yeah, I'm SO pumped for this flight. Funny and romancy stuff! Hmm. Romancy isn't a word. But it is now. LOL. I'm glad you liked the Colonel. It would be – err – _interesting_ to have that guy as your boss.

Guest: I don't have a favorite football team, but all my friends like the Seahawks so I have to say I like them, too. If I don't then I get beat up. LOL. But they're out of the Super Bowl this year. Meh. :/

Ema: Yeah, I guess you may not find this story as appealing as Americans will. But thanks!

Unbreakable Warrior: Thank YOU! :)

HueDoge: Yeah, Modern AU's are hard to write well – I don't even think I do a good job. The best one that I've seen is Chasing Thunderstorms by Foxy's Girl. SO GOOD. I wish my stories would be even half as awesome. Astrid being too calm – yeah, she might have been. I guess I didn't want to make her terrified out of her mind, but hmm.

LunnaValley23: Here is the next chapter! Hopefully I didn't make you wait too long - :(

Andy493: MOAR is coming now! HA ha!

jade: So glad you like it! Your wait is over – temporarily. :) And your English isn't bad at all.

Hayden Strife: Hopefully I do earn a fav! :) Glad you found it interesting so far.

 **Thanks so much, great people. I love hearing from you!  
NatB.**

* * *

 **Time: 1944 hours  
Location: Bagram Airbase, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (34.944168, 69.273331)  
Date: April 13, 2017**

"You're my WHAT?" Astrid gaped.

Agent Haddock had the goofiest, funniest grin on his face.

"I'm your husband," he laughed. "You have graduated from Miss Hofferson to Mrs. Hofferson. I have graduated from Henry to Steve."

Maria, the secretary, laughed, shaking her head. "The Colonel has a good sense of humor."

"Yeah, I know, right?" Agent Haddock shook his head. "Just the thing he would do."

Astrid stood up. "Wait, what is going on?" She asked.

Agent Haddock walked up to her. "By the power invested in the Colonel, he has made us husband and wife," he grinned. "And we have to act the part for five hours."

Astrid stared. Agent Haddock handed her his ID card. "Have a look at that," he grinned, and threw his arm around her shoulder. "Steve. I always liked the name Steve. What you think of the picture?"

Astrid stared at Agent Haddock's fake ID. "Wow," she muttered. "This is insane."

"Yes it is, Milady," Agent Haddock laughed. "And it's going to be fun. Our car is leaving in about five minutes to take us to the airport. Hey, Maria." Agent Haddock tossed two folders on the desk. "Have those put in a bag and sent to the car. I'll need both of them."

"Right away, Agent Haddock," Maria answered, and immediately pressed a buzzer on her desk. Then Agent Haddock, steering Astrid to the door, handed her a yellow envelope.

"What's in there?" Astrid asked.

"We'll open it when we get to the car," Agent Haddock grinned, his arm still draped over her shoulders. "But I think it'll have some fun stuff in it, my sweet wife."

Astrid elbowed him.

"Oww," Agent Haddock whined. "Don't hurt your husband. That's domestic abuse."

"Oh, pshaw!" Astrid laughed. "Don't be a softy. You're military, you can take an elbow."

"But this is my day off," Agent Haddock complained. "Can't I just spend a day with no action, married and settled down?"

Astrid elbowed him again.

"Okay, okay," Agent Haddock laughed. "I surrender. You win."

Astrid laughed at him. "You're a little baby."

"It's because I don't have my sunglasses on," Agent Haddock replied. "They make me impervious to all pain. Here, check these out."

He took his red-tinted sunglasses from his pocket and put them on Astrid. "Don't you just feel the power radiating from those?" He laughed. "You put them on and the world becomes red and dangerous, and nothing it sends your way can ever touch your or annoy you." He lowered his hand from Astrid's shoulder and tickled her under her arm.

"Heeeeyyyyy!" Astrid laughed, wriggling. She shoved Agent Haddock away and kicked him in the shins. "That wasn't nice!"

"Oww," Agent Haddock whined again. "You kicked me, Milady. That's mean."

"I'm a mean girl," Astrid answered.

"You look good in those glasses," Agent Haddock grinned.

"Well, you take your dumb sunglasses back," Astrid said, taking them off. "If I keep them on you'll tickle me again."

"If you keep them off I'll tickle you for the rest of the trip," Agent Haddock replied.

"Don't even think about it," Astrid grinned.

"Well, don't make me think about it and put my glasses back on."

"No!" Astrid handed him the glasses. "They're too big for me, and I hate red."

"But red is the best color ever!" Agent Haddock complained, taking back his glasses. "I want a divorce! My wife doesn't like the right color!"

Astrid laughed out loud. "You're a joke," she said. "How on earth did a guy like you ever get in the military?"

Agent Haddock was still grinning. "Because I can knock the wings off a flea at five hundred yards," he said. "I'm the best sniper in Special Ops. I can afford to goof off in my free time, Milady."

"Umm, aren't we NOT supposed to talk about how you're a sniper?" Astrid asked. "I mean, that's what got me in trouble last time."

"Not necessarily," Agent Haddock answered, putting his arm back around Astrid. "We just can't talk about any military operation that you might have seen me sniping in. And you've never seen that, have you?"

"Of course not," Astrid grinned.

"Right. So we can talk about anything but that. However, when we get in public, don't mention the US Military at all. I suspect that there will be questions asked about a family that got shot by a sniper today. I don't know why, of course, but I just feel like it. So it's safer if we just don't mention my – umm, _profession_ in public. Instead we can discuss my fake job, which should be explained in that envelope somewhere."

"Okay," Astrid answered. "So where exactly are we going, Agent – err, Steve?"

"To the garage," Agent Haddock answered, and just then they came to a door. Agent Haddock opened it and they entered a room with two soldiers in it. They saluted as Agent Haddock came in, and he lifted his arm off Astrid's shoulders to return the gesture.

"Agent Haddock, sir," one of the men said. He had a cardboard box in his right hand. "I need you to go get changed into these clothes, sir. Colonel's orders. And I'm also going to need your sidearm."

"Right," Agent Haddock said. Reaching to his belt, he pulled out his pistol and handed it to one of the soldiers. Then he took the cardboard box and walked off into a side room. Astrid was left standing there. The two soldiers saluted and left. Astrid jokingly returned the salute, and she thought she saw one of the soldiers laugh at the poor attempt as he left.

Astrid shrugged her shoulders. She was left alone in a small room and no one was around. She didn't even see any surveillance cameras. She looked down at the yellow envelope. What was in it, she wondered? Agent Haddock had said that it would have information on his fake profession. It probably had other stuff in it. Fun stuff. If she could figure out what Agent Haddock was before he did, then she could surprise him. But Haddock had also said not to open it until they got in the car. But whatever. She reached for the opening and then the door opened. She yelped and jumped back as Agent Haddock came out. He had taken off his military gear and put on jeans and tennis shoes, and his shirt – he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Umm, okay," Astrid said, trying not to stare at his thick chest muscles and strong core. Not to mention arms. It was hard. "Are – are we going to get going?"

Agent Haddock gestured to the door with a grumpy look on his face. "They took away my sunglasses," he whined. "Apparently I can't take them with me because they're officially military, and by some random freak of a chance someone will know that and suspect that I am a soldier. I'm not happy."

"Umm, I think you should stop whining about the glasses and start worrying about maybe putting your shirt on?" Astrid said. She was having a hard time not staring.

"But this one is too small," Agent Haddock complained, holding up a printed tee-shirt with the words 'Just Do It' and the Nike symbol. "Apparently the Colonel thought I was a twelve year old."

Astrid grinned. "Just put it on, okay?"

"All right," Agent Haddock said, and put the shirt on over his head. It was, in fact, too small, and Astrid could easily see his muscle tone through the shirt. It was nice and defined… She jerked her head up and saw Agent Haddock grinning at her.

"See something you like?" he asked jokingly.

"Oh, shut up," Astrid said, reddening. "Let's go. Where's the garage?"

"It's that way," Agent Haddock said, pointing. "But first I have to search you."

"What?" Astrid asked.

"Search you, pat you down," Agent Haddock explained sheepishly. "What they do at the airport."

"Uhh, I don't really like that," Astrid stammered.

Agent Haddock spread his hands. "Look, you should be happy," he said. "The security people I just talked to weren't pleased that you weren't cleared for weapons when you came in here. They wanted to strip-search you."

Astrid froze. "Oh."

"Yeah," Agent Haddock said, plowing his hand through his brown hair embarrassedly. "I talked them out of it, but I have to, uhh, pat you down." He gestured to Astrid. "So could you just put your arms up?"

"Yeah," Astrid said, and raised her arms. Agent Haddock walked in front of her and gave her a pat-down. He was quick, but he was thorough. He even emptied her pockets and checked the contents for weapons. Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, he pulled out a slip of paper.

"What's this?" he asked, unfolding it.

"Umm, I have no idea," Astrid said. "It looks like a receipt."

"Well, it's not," Agent Haddock grinned. "This is a highly technical paper infused hand grenade."

Astrid shook her head. "What is the matter with you? I thought it was something serious."

"Oh, it's very serious," Agent Haddock laughed. "Going to -" he looked at the receipt – "The Night Fury diner in Paris is a grave crime."

Astrid couldn't even laugh, and just shook her head again.

Putting the receipt in his own pocket, Agent Haddock squatted down and slid his hands down Astrid's legs.

"All right, you're clear," he said, straightening up. "Let's go drive to the airport and get out of this cursed Airbase. Let me see that envelope."

Astrid handed him the envelope, and then he led her out a door and into a large, noisy garage. There were tons of military vehicles, tanks, and humvees, and there was only one normal car. That was the one Agent Haddock was taking her to.

There was a US Marine, out of uniform, standing in front of the vehicle, and he saluted as Agent Haddock arrived. The Marine had a leather coat in his hand. Agent Haddock, of course, saluted back.

"Here is the bag, sir." the Marine said. "I'm driving you to the airport and then you're on your own."

"Roger that," Agent Haddock said. He took the coat from the Marine and put it on. Then he opened the back door of the car and gestured inside.

"Inside, Milady."

Astrid stepped to the door and swung her legs inside. Then Agent Haddock walked around to the other side and got in. He put the bag on the floor but kept the envelope in his hand. Then the Marine got in front of the wheel and turned back to look into the rear of the car.

"All set?" he asked. "Seat belts, both of you."

There were two clicks as Astrid and Agent Haddock snapped their seat belts and leaned back. Then the car jerked forward and zoomed out of the garage.

"All right," Agent Haddock grinned, as they sped towards the entrance of the airbase. "Let's see what kind of toys the Colonel gave us."

Opening the envelope, he reached in and pulled out a piece of paper. "Let me see," Agent Haddock muttered, unfolding it. "Well, here's the info on my fake job. It appears I'm a manager of Taco Bells in Mississippi. Wonderful."

Astrid chuckled, and Agent Haddock handed the paper to her. "That's useless. What else do we have?"

Astrid looked at the paper. It was a document stating that a certain 'Steve Hofferson' had authorized increase in staff throughout twenty-seven Taco Bells in Mississippi. All of a sudden, Agent Haddock laughed, and Astrid turned to look at him. He held two sparkly objects in his hand.

"Well, would you look at that," Agent Haddock said, holding up two golden bands. "Wedding rings. The Colonel sure made this real. I even think they're real gold."

Astrid stared. "Are we going to wear those?"

Agent haddock grinned. "You bet we are." He held out the smaller ring, which had a white stone set on top of it. He then grabbed Astrid's left hand and held it out.

"Will you marry me, Miss Hofferson?" he laughed, as he slid the ring on her finger.

Astrid pushed him away with a laugh, and his own ring fell from the seat and onto the floor of the car.

"I'll get it," Astrid said, and reached down. She picked up the ring. It was a solid gold band, and she turned to hand it back to Agent Haddock. But he was just holding his left hand out.

"Are you serious?" Astrid groaned, and then slid the ring on his finger. It was a perfect fit.

"Thank you, Milady," Agent Haddock smiled. He grabbed her wedding ring hand and kissed it. "Now we are officially married."

"No we're not!" Astrid said.

"Oh, yeah, you're right, we need to kiss first," Agent Haddock grinned.

"Look, why don't you take your kiss and shove it up your -" Astrid grabbed his shirt and pushed him away playfully. "Wow. You have GOT to stop joking around."

Agent Haddock sighed. "We are married now. Officially."

"No, we are NOT," Astrid groaned. "We haven't stepped in a church and said our vows!"

"Actually, according to this document, we HAVE," Agent Haddock grinned. "Wow. Look at this. The Colonel is just having fun now. Check it out. An OFFICIAL marriage license for us."

He looked up at her, the corners of his mouth up in a broad smile. "You can't escape the power of the government, my dear wife."

"Give me that!" Astrid exploded, yanking the paper out of Agent Haddock's hands. "What is the US Military doing to my life? Can I tear this up?"

Agent Haddock roared with laughter, slapping his thighs. "Yeah, you can just tear it up if you want," he chortled. "It's just to let us know the details if anyone were to ask us any dumb questions about where we got married. It's worthless, Milady. Go ahead."

Astrid grinned and was about to rip the document down the middle, but then stopped.

"Wait," she said. "I might want this. Maybe I'll let my parents find it."

Agent Haddock laughed again. "That would be a good joke. But if you're keeping it, then we are still married."

Astrid glowered. "No, we're not!"

"Officially, we are." Agent Haddock was enjoying himself.

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"Because what?"

"Well, because you - you never proposed!"

"I just did, a few seconds ago!"

"I never said yes!"

"But you're wearing my ring."

"Because I HAVE to!"

"You _have_ to because we're married."

"We are NOT married! It's not a real marriage until we say the vows!"

"And, according to that document, we did."

"Whatever! WE never kissed! It's not real until there's a kiss!"

"Fine. I can settle that right now, Milady." Agent Haddock leaned over and kissed Astrid, right on the lips.

"HEEEYY!" Astrid grabbed Agent Haddock's collar and pushed him away. "You scoundrel!"

Agent Haddock rolled over in his seat and laughed and laughed.

The exit gate rose, and the car turned out of the airbase on its way to Kabul and the International Airport.

 **Time: 1958 hours  
Location: Kabul International Airport, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **34.551769, 69.218318)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

There was no saluting as Agent Haddock and Astrid Hofferson got out of the car at Kabul International Airport. Instead, the Marine just handed Agent Haddock the bag, and he took it without a word. Then, with a smile, Agent Haddock offered his arm to Astrid.

Astrid took it, and the two Americans walked arm in arm into the airport.

"So what flight are we?" Astrid asked. "I don't know what it is, only that it's leaving in eight minutes. We have to hurry."

Agent Haddock nodded. "It's Flight 324. Kabul to Paris. We need to go this way." He gestured to the security.

In a few brief minutes they were through security, and Agent Haddock, upon getting his bag returned, peeked inside it and chuckled.

"The security here isn't very good," he said, zipping up the leather container. "They took nothing out of this bag."

"Umm, were they supposed to?" Astrid asked.

"Well, not really," Agent Haddock replied. "But it's got some stuff in it that would seem suspicious to an inquisitive eye, like some highly detailed folders on terrorists and some Special Ops info. I'm surprised the Colonel had us take it and possibly have it confiscated by security."

Astrid shrugged. "Well, we're through," she said. "And our flight is leaving soon. Let's get on the plane."

"You're right, Milady," Agent Haddock grinned. "The entrance is up there. Let's move."

 **Time: 2005 hours  
Location: Flight 324, Kabul to Paris, Kabul International Airport, Kabul, Afghanistan  
Coordinates: (** **34.551769, 69.218318)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

Hurrying, Astrid and her fake husband came to the tunnel and got on the plane. Walking down the boarding passage, they entered the plane. Together they passed into the first class section. Astrid expected Agent Haddock to continue to the normal seats, but instead he stopped and plopped down into a couch in the first class section.

"What?" Astrid asked, stopping. "We're not supposed to do that, Agent - Steve. We're sitting in the back."

"Does it look like I care?" Agent Haddock laughed. He put his bag up on a table and stretched out his legs.

"Well, no, it doesn't seem like YOU care about anything," Astrid answered, as she looked at her ticket. "But we this ticket says -" She stopped, and then looked up at Agent Haddock with a look of surprise. "You changed the tickets."

Agent haddock laughed. "You bet I did," he said. "Did you really think that I would sit for five whole hours on a plane and NOT be in the first class section? I wouldn't make my wife sit back there." He gestured to the normal passengers. "Come on, Milady. Sit down." He patted the red leather couch that he was sitting on.

Astrid shook her head. "Wow. You're one lazy guy." She sat down next to Agent Haddock and leaned back. It was the most comfortable plane seat she had ever sat in. Agent Haddock laid his arm across her shoulders and shifted next to her.

"Look, why did you change the tickets?" Astrid asked. "We would have been just fine in the back, and I think we were supposed to be back there. Besides, it costs a LOT of money to sit up here. You shouldn't have paid that."

Agent Haddock grinned his goofy grin that Astrid was beginning to think was sexy.

"What, do you think that _I_ paid for this?" he laughed. "Of course I didn't pay for this. I charged it to the base."

Astrid gawked. "What!? You made the US Mil- you made your boss pay for this?"

Agent Haddock shook with laughter. "Oh yeah."

Astrid just stared. "You're going to get in a lot of trouble for that."

"No, I won't," Agent Haddock answered carelessly. "I'll make up some kind of random excuse."

Astrid shook her head as Agent Haddock reached over and brushed a hair out of her face, tucking it behind her left ear.

"Is that what you normally do?" Astrid asked. "Make random excuses?"

"Of course," Agent Haddock grinned. "I have to justify all my crazy behavior somehow. And random excuses are the best way to do it."

"What kind of crazy behavior?"

"Well, like, pretty much everything I do," Agent Haddock answered, and then the pilot's voice came over the intercom on the airplane, in Pashto.

" _Fasten your seat belts, everyone_ ," he said. " _The plane is about to taxi to the runway_."

Astrid looked up at Agent Haddock. "What does that mean?" she asked. "I don't know the language."

Agent Haddock glanced down. "Well, Steve Hofferson isn't supposed to know that language either, but I know a certain guy who does. He said to put on your seat belts, because we're about to leave."

"Finally," Astrid grumbled. She reached over, found her seat belt on the edge of the couch, and tightened it. Agent Haddock took his arm off her shoulders to do the same with his.

In a few minutes the plane taxied to the runway, and everyone experienced the thunderous rush as the plane became airborne and leveled out. The seatbelt light turned off.

"I'm going to sleep," Agent Haddock said, undoing his seatbelt. "And my excuse this time is that I'm really tired." He laid his head back against the back of the couch. "When the stewardess comes, get me some coffee and wake me up."

"Actually, I think I'll probably fall asleep too," Astrid murmured. "I've been up since 5:00 this morning. I'm exhausted."

Agent Haddock laughed. "5:00? That's nothing. I've been up since 500 hours yesterday. I win."

"You win? What did you win?" Astrid demanded.

"I win the 'who-stayed-up-longest' competition," Agent Haddock said smugly.

"There was no such contest!" Astrid complained.

"There is now. I just invented it."

"Well, you won, but whatever! That's not fair. I'm going to make my own contest. We will be waiting for a while. If we're not going to sleep, we need a game or something to pass the time." Astrid folded her arms.

"Sure. But if I win it, I get a prize." Agent Haddock replied, closing his eyes.

"Why should I give you prize?"

"Because then it's not fun, and not worth staying awake for."

Astrid huffed. "Fine. My contest will be a joke contest."

Agent Haddock laughed. "Not a good idea, Milady. I am a master jokester. Why did you decide to do that?"

Astrid grinned. "Because I like a challenge. I think I can beat you at jokes."

Agent Haddock leaned back further on the couch. "All right, Milady, we are so on. What are the rules?"

"The first person to make the other person laugh wins," Astrid stated.

Agent Haddock nodded. "That's fair. What's the prize?"

"Uhh – I don't know," Astrid answered. "But when I win I'm going to make you be quiet for a full minute. You won't be able to, I guarantee it."

Agent Haddock smiled. "Oh, you're cocky, Milady. All right, but if I win, you have to kiss me."

Astrid grinned. "All right, soldier boy. You're going down. We're on."

Agent Haddock chuckled. "All right, the contest is starting now. Who goes first?"

"Well, you get to," Astrid said, leaning back and resting her head against Agent Haddock's arm, which was draped across her shoulders.

"OK," Agent Haddock said. "And all I have to do is make you laugh?"

"Yep. You won't."

Agent Haddock gave Astrid an evil grin. "Oh, I think I will."

He reached over and tickled her stomach.

"Gaaaahhh!" Astrid grabbed his hand and tried to shove it away, but he kept tickling her, and she wriggled and laughed. "Stop it!"

"Ha Ha! I win!" Agent Haddock stopped tickling her and did a fist pump.

"Not fair!" Astrid attacked Agent Haddock with both hands, tickling him. "You didn't tell a joke!"

"But all I had to do was make you laugh," Agent Haddock laughed, grabbing Astrid's wrists and pinning them down so that she couldn't tickle him back. "Those were the rules, Milady. I win. You owe me."

"No! You cheated!" Astrid was indignant. "It was a joke contest, not a tickle contest!"

"But I followed the rules," Agent Haddock countered. "And I won. I get the prize."

Astrid huffed. "FINE. But you won't get away with that again. I'll make sure I get the rules harder next time. Cheater."

Agent Haddock laughed. "All right, but I still win. I get to kiss you."

"Oh no," Astrid moaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Oh yes," Agent Haddock grinned. "You can't escape me. Come here."

Resignedly, Astrid tilted her head back and Agent Haddock leaned into her, cupping her cheek in his hands and planting a good one on her lips. Astrid's eyes widened as he kept going. His tongue rolled against hers, his hands dancing smoothly over her cheeks and neck. He was a good kisser. Astrid didn't want it to stop. She gripped his collar and tugged him closer, deepening the kiss. Agent Haddock didn't seem to mind.

After a much longer time than expected, Agent Haddock released her and leaned back. Astrid took a deep breath and exhaled, glancing up at Agent Haddock. He was grinning.

"Score!" he laughed, brushing another hair out of Astrid's face. "Yes! Now this flight was worth it."

Astrid reddened. "Oh, shut up," she murmured.

Agent Haddock grinned, hugging Astrid closer with the arm still draped across her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. But you were into it."

"Was not!"

"Oh yes you were. I could tell. I'm going to make this my prize for every competition from now on."

Astrid didn't argue with that. She merely set her jaw and looked up. "All right, you rascal, next contest you will LOSE. But I really should go to sleep, or else I'll be too tired to make the rules hard."

"Oh, OK," Agent Haddock laughed. "Sleep is actually a good idea. Let me see if they provide their first class passengers with blankets." He removed his arm from Astrid's shoulders and fished around on the side of the couch.

"You took away my headrest," Astrid grumbled.

"Sorry," Agent Haddock said. He immediately returned his arm to its old place on her shoulders. "How's that?" He pulled out a blanket from the side of the couch.

"Good," Astrid answered, leaning back against his bicep. "Comfortable."

"Cool." Agent Haddock squeezed her closer and rested his own head on top of hers. "All right, now I can go to sleep too." He took the blanket and put it over both of them, tucking the edge up against Astrid's chin.

"Hey," Astrid grumbled, snuggling her head against his neck. But she didn't complain further. In a few seconds the two Americans were asleep in each other's arms, bound for Paris.

 **Time: 2043 hours  
Location: Flight 324, Kabul to Paris, 10,000 feet Above Sea Level  
Coordinates: (** **45.8433219, 87.5643238)** **  
Date: April 13, 2017**

 _Many minutes later a man got up in the back of the airplane and walked to the restroom, locking the door behind him. Taking a careful glance around, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, bulky candy bar. He held it in his hand for a minute, staring at it. Reaching for the wrapper, he peeled it off. Instead of chocolate, however, cold metal gleamed in his hand._

 _It wasn't a candy bar. It was a pistol magazine - and a bomb detonator._

* * *

All right! Things were just going too perfectly, weren't they? I had to throw a wrench in the works. Action and more fun stuff coming up next! And I really hoped you liked the Agent Haddock/Astrid scenes. Or should I say Steve and Astrid? I don't know. Whatever. Please let me know what you thought. Writing romance has always been my great writer's woe.

Thanks for reading, people! Thankee!

 **Over.**

NatB.


	5. A Bomb

Hey! I'm back again, coming to you with chapter five of Twin Bullets, my favorite pastime. I had forgotten this story for a week or two and only recently got back to it, after posting on my other stories. But when I started this chapter, I just couldn't stop! Too much action and fun! So, as always, I hope you all enjoy, and also, I have to inform you that I will most likely…

 **NOT BE POSTING FOR ABOUT TWO MONTHS.**

Not for lack of interest or anything, I'm just heading out hunting for a week or two and won't have access to a computer or anything, and I won't be able to write. And then, when I get back, this story is third on the list to write, so meh. Sorry. :/  
So I apologize, but I'll work twice as hard when I get back, I promise! Anyway, read on and leave me a review!

* * *

Oh yeah, my reviews! I need to reply to all of you who left me one last time! So here you go, and thanks so much for taking the time to let me know what you thought. :)

TidePoolAngel: Or just Angel – Oh yeah! More action, all righty! I had a lot of fun writing the intense scenes, how'd I do?

thearizona: Thank you so much! I don't hold much faith in my romance writing skills, so I'm glad you thought it was good! But I do like writing humor and bantering, so that helped me, I guess, when I combine the two. LOL. And yeah, Steve will have to step aside the chapter and let the Spec Ops Agent take over, huh? HA HA! Thanks so much!

SharKohen: It is a really odd situation, ain't it? But I'm glad you liked the joking and bantering between the two of them. A childish couple, all right. Agent Haddock doesn't seem to take anything that's NOT work seriously, even fake marriages. LOL. So nice to have a review, thanks!

Agent Khizar: Yeah, the argument was funny, wasn't it? Had fun with that, trying to make them joke around and still get fluffy at the same time. :) And both kisses were kinda devilish, if you ask me. That teaser is coming up in full in this chapter, so read on for action! Thanks for the review, pal.

jlrdsr: Like I said, I just invented that word. Romancy IS now a word. MY word. LOL. And you know what, you're RIGHT! He sounds almost EXACTLY like the young Han Solo! You're right! I never even thought of that! I guess it's because Hiccup doesn't have a Wookie following him around in this story. :) Thank you so much, man, I'm certainly having fun writing this in my spare time.

leader of shadowz: Okee dokee! I will try to keep it up to the best of my abilities. Trying to figure out a way to make romance and action combine for this one. ;)

Foster117: Thankee, man! Ending is now beginning this chapter! Read on, read on!

LunnaValley23: Aww, thanks so much! I am very critical of my romance writing skills, and to get that support really encourages me. THANKS! *Doing victory dance*

Guest1: Happy, funny, bubbly chemistry. Glad you liked it!

Guest2: Maybe they won't make it to Paris! Bomb detonators mean bombs. As you'll see in this chapter. ;)

Mark A: Yeah, I loved writing that funny joking around and devilish romance. And yeah, I imagine Hiccup to be about 25. He's been in the Special Forces since High School, and he's been in the Force for seven years, so yeah, 25. Astrid's twenty, right? Didn't I say that in chapter 3 or 4? I forget. Anyway, thanks for the review, Mark!

Elsa-rosa-may: Rebel Hiccup! I love it. So glad you thought it was funny, I had fun writing it! :) Thanks for the review, Elsa!

mogarius-the-third: Yep, you guessed it all right! REAL shit's gonna go down. And a little more fluff, too. Read on for more!

jade: Thank you so much! And hey, you have perfectly fine English! I can easily understand you! :)

Midnight510 (all reviews): Fake marriages, snipers, terrorists, and bombs? Sounds awesome to me! Glad you appreciate the set up. And shit's about to go down! Read on! Bombs and romance, can it get any better? LOL. Thanks for the reviews, all of em.

Guest3: But I love cliffhangers so much! Plz don't kill me, please – waaahaaa! *Hiding in the closet, afraid to come out* LOL. Thanks for the funny review, I love it. :)

UnbreakableWarrior: Thanks so much! I loved writing the funny romance, I was laughing the whole time. :)

Ryder-Hunter: Because I LOVE cliffhangers! LOL. Yeah, and that fluff seems like a little more than just a 'job' to me. ;)

tjjenkins: Yaaaaaasss indeed! More cool and funny stuff coming your way!

xlight02: It's coming out now! Hope you like it! :)

Thanks so much, all of you!  
NatB.

* * *

 **Time: 0100 hours  
Location: Flight 324, Kabul to Paris, 10,000 feet Above Sea Level  
Coordinates: (** **45.8433219, 98.5643238)** **  
Date: April 14, 2017**

Astrid woke up slowly, and didn't want to. She was warm and comfortable, and felt like she could sleep like this forever. For a brief second she thought she was back in her hotel in Paris, with her thick pillows and soft blankets wrapped around her. However, the events of the last 24 hours came back to her, including getting blood sprayed over her face. That woke her up. Opening her eyes fully, she found her head snuggled up against the chest of Agent Haddock, his left arm over her shoulders. The blanket he had given her was cozily wrapped around her. Stealing a silent glance upward, she saw that her fake husband was awake, his bright green eyes scanning over a piece of paper in his hands. It looked important. Astrid, still tired, shifted slightly and nuzzled closer to him.

Agent Haddock looked down at her, but Astrid shut her eyes, pretending to still be asleep. He didn't catch on. Taking the edge of the blanket, he tucked it up around her chin and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Astrid laughed, breaking her cover.

"What?" Agent Haddock looked away, reddening.

"Nothing," Astrid smiled, taking her head off Agent Haddock's chest and rubbing her eyes. "Just – that was cute."

"Aww, go to grass," Agent Haddock muttered, and tickled her again, with the arm that was still wrapped around Astrid.

Astrid wriggled and shoved away from him, giggling.

"You're ticklish, Milady," Agent Haddock grinned, stopping.

"Yes, I am," Astrid retorted, slapping at him playfully. "And I really wish you would stop doing that."

"But it's fun to tickle you! And you surprised me by being awake. I thought you would sleep for the rest of the trip."

"It's fun for you, maybe!" Astrid retorted playfully. "But not for me! It's irritating. And childish."

"Oh, don't lie!" Agent Haddock was teasing her again. "You like it. You know you do. You laugh every time I tickle you, without fail. So you must like it."

"Oh, for the love of – that's because I have to laugh!"

"Not necessarily." Agent Haddock had his cheeky grin back on.

"Well, whatever." Astrid huffed, crossing her arms. "I want to talk about something else, smartass."

"Fine." Agent Haddock leaned his head on top of hers. "What do you want to talk about? Maybe how you snore?"

"I don't SNORE!" Astrid said, looking up at Agent Haddock, who had just taken his head off hers.

Agent Haddock laughed. "Maybe."

Astrid scowled. "You're just screwing with me."

"Maybe. So what DO you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can get to know each other." Astrid suggested.

"Ahh." Agent Haddock leaned back and stuffed the paper he had been perusing back into a file, and then put the file in the satchel he had snuck past security. "Well," he said, crossing his legs, "do you mean get to know about Steve Hofferson or a certain military agent we are both acquainted with?" Agent Haddock grinned.

"Well, I'm married to Steve," Astrid retorted. "And the only thing I know about him is that he's a real dork."

"Is he now?" Agent Haddock was really grinning now.

"Totally. So Steve is boring. Tell me about a – a certain sniper I know named Henry."

Agent Haddock's grin immediately faded, and he became serious. "You may not want to hear that story," he said softly. "It's not exactly a lovely one."

"I know." Astrid was firm. "But I want to hear it. What is his job?"

Agent Haddock looked grim, and his green, joking eyes faded. He became utterly devoid of emotion, and began to speak.

"Well, the Special Ops Agent we both know has a very unpleasant duty," he said. "And he started his military career in a very sad way." Agent Haddock's tone shifted to a sad narration. "Back when this man was a kid," he began, "he lived a pretty harsh life. He was – skinny, pathetic, could never anything worth a damn. Couldn't get a girlfriend, nothing. But there was one thing he did have. Determination. He set his heart on pleasing his dad. He never tried to do anything but make his own father proud."

Agent Haddock's voice cracked, and he swallowed and began again. "But despite all his efforts, he never could live up to his father's expectations. In High School, he tried out for every sport he could, hoping to make his dad see some potential. But he failed at ALL of them, except," Agent Haddock managed a grin, "Riflery. But he was useless at football, and his dad expressed nothing but disappointment in his lack of athleticism. The kid grew melancholy and dull, and began to get ruthlessly bullied by everyone, including his own cousin. He started showing up at home with bruises and welts. But his dad never cared enough to notice."

Agent Haddock once more tripped on his own words and took a deep breath.

"When he graduated from High School after all that misuse, he wanted to get away from the world forever. He enlisted in the US Army. Finally he began to improve. There, in the camouflage gear and harsh regulations, he thrived. His lean, skinny muscles hardened and his weak, and his pathetic mind grew trained and talented. The military was an outlet for him, a place where he could take out his anger at the world by working hard."

Agent Haddock paused. His face was shifting from its usual joking, happy look to a savage, angry, and sad face.

"He turned out to be a crack shot. He never missed anything, ever. He became a legend in the training group. Finally someone appreciated his efforts, like his own father never did. The drill sergeant saw him for what he really was, and after that angry, sad soldier passed basic training, the sergeant instantly recommended that man for promotion.

Agent Haddock bit his lip before continuing.

"His file was given, without his knowledge, to the Special Forces, who saw him as a potential asset for them. At this time, that soldier was back home on leave and wasn't taking any more shit from anyone. He almost killed his own cousin, the bully, in a fistfight, and was hauled to jail, where his parents, shocked and angry at his outbursts of rage, refused to bail him out."

Agent Haddock gripped the edge of the couch.

"After a day in prison, a CIA Agent came to the penitentiary and got that hardened, angry man out without saying a word. He put the soldier in a black sedan and brought him to CIA headquarters at Langley. There, this soldier accepted the position as Special Forces sniper, and began a rigorous training program. He learned to fly fighter jets and even operate in submarines. He learned to control all his emotions and forget all about his old life. He met friends, and, for once in his life, became happy – until he was sent on missions."

Agent Haddock paused. "While this was going on, this man's existence was erased. All records from his childhood vanished. Not even his own parents knew where he had gone, and he was presumed dead. The soldier didn't come back to them, because why should he go back to those who never cared about him?"

Now all the anger was out of Agent Haddock's voice, and instead it became sad.

"No. He could never go back. Special Ops was the best place for this man. He excelled in all operations, killing with ruthless efficiency. At first he was happy, knowing that he was doing a service to his country with every bullet he fired. But then the missions got tougher."

He paused.

"And by tougher, I mean, not more difficult to succeed in, but rather, simply more difficult to pull the trigger. Time after time he was sent to kill more than just men, and more than just adults." He took a shuddering breath. "This soldier never forgot the first child he killed. It was East Iran, back in 2014. This small, happy kid. His parents had just had their heads blown off, and the youngster, barely six years old, was just standing there, staring at their bodies, with tears in his big blue eyes. He turned and looked right into the man's scope, the cross-points right on his forehead."

Agent Haddock was now trembling, and Astrid sat quietly next to him, her eyes wide in horror. Agent Haddock turned to look at her, his green eyes meeting hers.

"And I pulled the trigger."

Astrid gasped.

Agent Haddock nodded grimly, breaking off his story to whisper to himself.

"It's a hard job." He was deathly quiet. "A really hard job. Every night, when I go to sleep, I see them. All the people I've killed, especially the children. They look up at me with big, innocent eyes, and ask me, 'Why?'"

Agent Haddock trembled again. "And I can't answer them."

Astrid looked at Agent Haddock with a new look of horror and sadness. She stared as Agent Haddock blinked, shook his head, and closed his eyes. Astrid wrapped her arms around him and squeezed comfortingly.

"Hey, it's OK," she said.

Agent Haddock kept his eyes shut for three full seconds, and then opened them. All the sadness was gone, and his eyes were laughing and joking once again.

"I shouldn't have told you that," he smiled, hugging Astrid back. "It's bad for both of us. Tell me, what do YOU like to do, Milady?"

Astrid was still shocked by Agent Haddock's story.

"How hard is it?" She whispered. "To pull the trigger?"

Agent Haddock bit his lip again.

"Hard," he whispered. "Very hard. Especially after looking at the file. Sometimes you can see why these people do what they do, and you feel badly. But you have to do it."

"What if that soldier decided to NOT kill someone?" Astrid asked quietly.

"Then that soldier would be instantly terminated," Agent Haddock said grimly. "He would be killed at once for betraying his country."

Astrid stared. "Why doesn't he just quit?"

"He will." Agent Haddock smiled. "He will. Soon."

Astrid nodded. "OK."

There was an awkward silence. Agent Haddock then leaned forward and pulled a file, stapled together, from the bag at his feet. Astrid looked up interestedly.

"What's that?" she asked, peering over Agent Haddock's arm.

"This," Agent Haddock grinned, pulling Astrid closer, "is you, Milady."

He showed her the cover of the file. It said, 'Hofferson, Astrid.' A picture of her, the same one on her driver's license, was right there on the front cover.

Astrid stared. "What does it have in there?"

Agent Haddock grinned and flipped through the pages.

"Pretty much every public record you have, and then some," he answered. "If you're not going to tell me about yourself, then I guess I have to find out. Hmm." Agent Haddock flipped though pages. "Oh! You've got a pilot's license! Wow!"

"Oh, give me that!" Astrid laughed, grabbing the folder from Agent Haddock. "Come on! You can't just sift through my personal life like it's a book!"

"But I could, whenever I request it from the databases." Agent Haddock was careless. "It's all accessible to the CIA."

"Oh, come on!" Astrid was indignant. "That's mean."

"But I have _power_ , Milady."

Astrid was about to make some kind of sassy retort, but abruptly, Agent Haddock's face changed. His eyes narrowed into slits, and he stared into the aisle of the airplane.

Astrid turned to follow his gaze. A man, with Afghan clothing but no headgear, was walking down the aisle towards the back of the airplane, his hands concealed in his clothing.

He passed by them into the back, and Agent Haddock, tense and alert, snapped up his wrist. Astrid noticed that he was wearing a watch. But it wasn't a watch. The device had a mirror attached to the glass instead of a timepiece. Agent Haddock was staring into the mirror, his eyes trained on the man as he advanced into the main area of the plane. Then the man turned and disappeared into a seat.

Agent Haddock snapped his watch down, his eyes still highly observant.

"What is it, Steve?" Astrid asked, concerned.

"I've seen that guy before," Agent Haddock muttered, his voice terse. "Dammit, I've seen him before, and it wasn't in a good place. Where? Goddammit, I -" He scratched his head, and then immediately froze.

"The file," he whispered hoarsely. "The file! That's where I've seen him! Shit, where is it?"

He reached to the bag at his feet and pulled out another folder, just like Astrid's. Flipping open the pages, he pulled out a photo. Astrid, gazing at it, sat transfixed. The man in the picture was the same man who had just walked by.

"Who is he?" Astrid asked. Agent Haddock had a very strange look on his face.

"He's Vadim Marsiek," he whispered. "The Colonel briefed me on him before I took you here. You may have heard it. The Special Forces is looking for him, and wants him dead. He's a dangerous terrorist."

He handed Astrid the folder, flipping it open to a certain page. It was titled, 'Subject's Terrorist Activities.'

"Read that section to me," Agent Haddock commanded. "Quietly."

Reaching down, Agent Haddock grabbed his belt buckle and pulled it off. With a quick twist, he snapped the metal to another piece of equipment he seemed to have pulled from nowhere. He was constructing something.

"Read it," he said hoarsely, gesturing to the paper.

Astrid looked down, her blue eyes scanning the text of the file. It looked very official.

"Vadim Marsiek," she whispered, reading the file. "This man is a known Afghan terrorist, who has been in action for assumed five years. Is an experienced militiaman and is highly trained in hand-to-hand combat and is proficient at unauthorized entry. He was involved with the Afghan police force for three years. He is believed to be highly skilled in all combat operations. Is knowledgeable in explosives of all kinds, and is suspected to be involved in recent terror attacks on Paris."

Astrid went to the next section without looking up.

"In February 2017, it was confirmed that Vadim Marsiek was working together with the Faimahir terrorist family operation in an effort to bomb certain areas in Paris, most notably airplanes bound for that particular country."

Astrid looked up, her eyes widening in horror.

"That's US!" She said, looking at Agent Haddock. She stared as the Special Ops Agent pulled a pen out of his pocket and twisted the cap. Instead of a normal ink point, a shiny bullet fell from the opening and clinked into Agent Haddock's palm. Grabbing it, Agent Haddock slid it into - a pistol.

Astrid gaped. Agent Haddock, in a matter of just a few seconds, had just constructed a firearm out of merely articles of his own clothing. He had removed his watch, and now that was part of the handle next to the trigger. His belt buckle was connected to the barrel. The barrel itself was a sharpie. And now it was loaded with a single bullet taken from his pen. The only part that looked like a real gun was the trigger and firing mechanism. His clothing had been designed to be made into a weapon.

"What is that?!" Astrid hissed, looking around to make sure no one saw them.

Agent Haddock turned and grabbed Astrid's shoulder.

"Milady, this is serious," he said, looking into her eyes. "That man, Vadim Marsiek, is a terrorist and has a bomb on this plane, I just know it. Problem is, if I sound the alarm, he may detonate it. I can't let that happen." Agent Haddock glanced up. "I need to talk to the pilot immediately, but in order for him to even think about me, I have to tell him stuff. Goddammit, where is the bomb?"

Then, suddenly, Agent Haddock's eyes went wide.

"Oh," he whispered. "OH. I get it. Shit."

"What is it?" Astrid was both scared and confused. "Henry, what's going on?"

Agent Haddock grabbed the files from Astrid and shoved all the papers back into the bag from which it had come. With a quick movement, he tossed the satchel aside. Then he pocketed his makeshift pistol so it was concealed from view. Reaching off to his side, he pressed the button that summoned a flight attendant to their seat.

"What are you doing?" Astrid hissed, grabbing Agent Haddock's arm. His bicep was tensed and hard. "Is there a bomb on this plane? Is that what you just said? What is going ON?!"

Agent Haddock shrugged her off. "Not now, Milady." Agent Haddock reached into his pocket, Astrid heard a menacing click as he cocked the pistol he had made.

The flight attendant, a smile on her face, walked down the aisle to their seat. She paused in front of Astrid and smiled, speaking, surprisingly, in English.

"Can I help you two? A cup of coffee, a snack, or anything else?"

"Yes." Agent Haddock's voice was commanding and firm. "But this isn't about something as trivial as snacks. I need to speak with the captain of the airplane. NOW."

The flight attendant stared, her mouth hanging open for a few seconds at Agent Haddock's bold words. "Sir, excuse me?"

"I need to see the captain of the plane. I don't care what he's doing, this takes precedence. There is a major issue on this flight."

The flight attendant was still gawking. "Sir, I'm not allowed to do that. I'm not allowed to communicate with the pilot or captain at all unless there is a specified issue. Who are you?"

Agent Haddock snapped his hand off his jacket, displaying a hidden ID card that had been strapped to the lining of the leather coat.

"Special Agent Henry Haddock, United States Special Ops," he said quietly, holding the badge in front of the flight attendant. "Professional Strike Agent No. 18. I'm on this plane in order to hunt down and eliminate known Afghan terrorists. I have located one, and have good reason to believe that there is a bomb on this airplane. I need to see the pilot and be given access to the baggage compartment immediately, or we will all be blown to hell. How's that for a specified issue?" He gave the woman a thin smile.

The flight attendant was about as stunned as she could have possibly been. Fear showed in her eyes, and glanced around nervously. Then her professionalism took hold, and she blinked.

"Agent Haddock, sir, if you believe there is a bomb on the plane, then that will qualify as a legitimate reason to summon the captain. But first, he will need to know where such an explosive may be. And if I could have that Special Forces identification to present to him, that would be preferable. You are United States military, sir?"

Agent Haddock grabbed the flight attendant's arm and leaned towards her, whispering.

"Roger that. I'm US Spec Ops. You can take my ID. But you need to make sure knowledge of this bomb goes nowhere. Tell NO ONE but the captain. I suspect that the device has a detonator that allows it to be discharged at any time, and if my suspect gets even a hint that I know there's a bomb on the plane, he'll blow it. No one else knows about this. Is that clear?"

The flight attendant nodded. "Yes. I need to tell the captain where it is. Sir?"

Agent Haddock looked up, a gleam in his eye.

"It's in the baggage marked 'Hofferson, Astrid,'" he stated.

Astrid froze. "What?" She demanded, staring at Agent Haddock.

Agent Haddock didn't even look at her. He kept his gaze on the flight attendant.

"There is only one piece of luggage under that name," he stated, "and it almost certainly has a bomb inside. It needs to be dissembled immediately and the device disabled, if possible. Take me to the captain and have him open a way to the main baggage area."

The flight attendant didn't question Agent Haddock. The ID and the utter surety had convinced her.

"Come with me," she said.

Agent Haddock finally decided to shift his attention back to Astrid. He nodded to the flight attendant.

"Go back to the cabin area, I'll meet you there. Both of us going at the same time might seem suspicious to a cautious man, which we ARE dealing with. Now laugh and say, 'Very good, sir.'"

The flight attendant got it. With a perfect practiced smile and a laugh, she smiled. "Very good, sir," she said smoothly. Then she turned and walked back to the front of the airplane as if nothing had happened.

Agent Haddock, watching the flight attendant depart, reached into his pocket and pulled out two items. Turning to Astrid, he handed them to her. Astrid looked at them, and stared.

Agent Haddock was giving her the odd-looking pistol and the mirror from his watch. He spoke, and all the playfulness and sarcasm was gone. He was all business.

"Miss Hofferson," he said brusquely. "There is obviously a bigger issue on this airplane than you, but my original mission was to ensure your personal safety at all costs. So, with that taken into consideration, I want you to have this."

He handed her the pistol.

"It's loaded and ready to fire," he said. "If anyone attacks you, use it. Meanwhile, take this mirror and see if that man we saw before gets up and goes anywhere from his current position, which is in seat forty-eight B, sixteen rows down in the economy section. If he does move, hit the button for the flight attendant and I'll see it and get after him. And whatever you do, do NOT get out of this seat. That's an order. Is that clear?"

Agent Haddock's hard green eyes bored into her.

"Hold on a second," Astrid said, grabbing Agent Haddock's sleeve. "There's a BOMB in my baggage?"

"Yes," Agent Haddock snapped.

"How do you know?" Astrid demanded.

"Because!" Agent Haddock impatient, but laid a hand on her shoulder and spoke earnestly. "Look, that guy who's on the plane was connected to your friends who got shot this afternoon. He was delivering bombs to them and they were working together on terrorist operations. That family, maybe even your 'friend' herself, probably planted one in your baggage while you were visiting them, since they knew you would be flying out to Paris today. That man, Vadim Marsiek, had no idea the Special Ops were even involved, he is only here to activate and detonate that bomb that they planted. It has to be in your baggage. It's too much of a coincidence that both Vadim AND the Faimahirs want to bomb Paris AND there's a piece of luggage that was in the Faimahirs' possession for about two hours that Vadim is now near, AND bound for Paris." Agent Haddock grew sarcastic. "And if that bomb blows, you can say goodbye to your travelling wardrobe."

Astrid wasn't amused. "What will you do, Henry?"

Agent Haddock was terse. "I'm going to talk to the captain and then execute an impromptu, unauthorized Strike Op."

"What does that mean?" Astrid asked, hesitatingly.

"Basically it means I'll come back for that gun and shoot someone," Agent Haddock replied coolly. "But I'm going to have to get to that bomb, too, so I need to get access to the baggage compartment first. That's where I'm going now, to see the captain about it. The bomb may be timed, in which case I'll have to disarm it or throw it off the plane."

Agent Haddock prepared to get up.

"Can you undo the bomb?" Astrid asked, worriedly.

Agent Haddock didn't answer. He just got up and left, walking calmly up to the front of the plane.

Astrid watched him go, and then put the makeshift gun into her own pocket. Raising the mirror Agent Haddock had given her, she directed it so that she could see the back of the plane, and the area that Vadim had sat in. No one moved, but she kept a nervous gaze on the reflection, trying to count the rows of seats eight times and see where the seat that the man Agent Haddock had pointed out was. She wondered how he could have counted them so fast and had the numbers stuck in his head.

She waited for several minutes, fingering the gun in her pocket nervously. She had only shot a pistol once in her life before, and she had been twelve years old and it had been a clumsy attempt in a shooting range back in Texas. She certainly didn't know to use this - thing, which was made up a belt buckle, a fake sharpie, and a watch.

As she was contemplating this, a man got up from the seat eight rows back. Astrid gasped. It was Vadim, and he was moving away! He turned around and walked to the back of the airplane, near the bathrooms. Astrid whirled and hit the button, and then directed her gaze back to the mirror.

The man looked around for a second, and then walked PAST the bathrooms to a door further down the corridor. Then he vanished.

* * *

 _"_ _No, YOU listen to me, Goddammit!"_ Agent Haddock was speaking in Pashto, and was very upset. He was in the cockpit of the airplane, with two co-pilots and the flight attendant looking on. He continued, savagely.

 _"_ _I don't care if you're the fucking aircraft captain and immediately changing course is your proper bullshit procedure in the event of a bomb! If you alter your course now, that terrorist who is on board will immediately notice that something is wrong and assume that we have discovered the presence of his explosive. He won't wait for it to be found, he'll detonate it! And if that happens, it won't matter any more than a rat's ass whether or not you'll still have a fucking job!"_

The captain reddened. _"Sir, I understand your complaint, but my procedures in these circumstances are -"_

 _"_ _GODDAMMIT!"_ Agent Haddock slammed his hand against the wall of the cockpit, making the two co-pilots jump. _"I don't give a FUCK about your damn procedures!"_ He shouted, getting in the airplane captain's face. _"Your procedures are DONE. GONE. ERASED. This plane is no longer your authority, sir. Consider it the property of the United States Special Forces from this second on! I'm hijacking this plane. It's MINE!"_ Agent Haddock pointed to the controls of the plane. _"You won't make a single Goddamn course adjustment for this aircraft, do you understand me? I will let you radio the tower at the nearest airport and have them prepare for an emergency landing, but you will NOT, repeat, NOT move this plane an inch off its scheduled course until I have the situation under control, procedures or not! Is that understood, for the love of GOD?!"_

The captain was cowed. He nodded. _"Yes, sir."_

 _"_ _Thank you."_ Agent Haddock took a deep breath. _"All right. Now open the rear compartments for the baggage area so I can get in there. It's imperative that – yeah, what?"_

The flight attendant had touched his arm to speak in English.

"Agent Haddock, sir, the request button for your seat has been touched. The terrorist has left his seat."

 _"_ _FUCK!"_ Agent Haddock leapt to the door of the cockpit, and shouted orders at the captain _. "Get that door to the baggage compartment open. That man is moving, probably to that same spot. I need to get on his tail, I guess he has to activate the bomb manually. Step on it, Goddammit!"_

Agent Haddock leapt out the door and raced into the first class section, ignoring the looks that he got from the people. A quick glance showed him that the aisle was clear. Vadim Marsiek had vanished. He sprang to Astrid's seat.

"He went away!" Astrid said, as she saw Agent Haddock sprinting towards her. "He went in a door in the back!"

"Right!" Agent Haddock did not bother to keep his voice down. "Give me the gun!"

Several passengers, the ones who spoke English, leapt to their feet as Agent Haddock shouted the word 'gun.' Immediately chaos erupted in the plane, with women screaming and men shouting. Agent Haddock, cursing loudly, did not take the weapon from Astrid and instead sprang to the middle of the aisle, displaying his US Special Forces ID.

 _"_ _Shut up!"_ He roared, in fluent Pashto. _"I'm a United States Special Forces Strike Agent! I am not planning on hijacking this plane. I am here to HELP! There is a bomb on this airplane! I am in the process of eliminating the terrorist involved and disabling the bomb, but I can't while you fools are babbling like gorillas! Everyone sit your asses back down and keep your heads low! There may be shooting and we're probably going to get blown up anyway! SIT DOWN!"_

The passengers began to scream and shout again, but they all followed Agent Haddock's command. But as they did so, a man jumped from a door in the rear of the plane. It was Vadim Marsiek, the terrorist. He had a look of crazed anger on his face, and he shouted as he pointed a gun at Agent Haddock from down the aisle.

 _"_ _Die, you Agent scum!"_ he shouted in Pashto, and fired. Agent Haddock flung himself to the ground and grabbed a tray of food from a nearby seat at the same time. Vadim Marsiek's pistol roared, shots echoing in the thin corridor of the airplane and sailing into the front of the plane.

They all missed.

Agent Haddock sprang to his feet and hurled the tray of food down the airplane. It was a marvelous throw. The metal platter crashed against the wall next to Vadim, clattering on the man's shoulder and neck. He dropped his now-empty pistol. Agent Haddock, shouting in triumph, began to run down the aisle after him. People were screaming all over. Vadim, recovering from the blow given him by the food tray, turned and opened a door, leaping down into the baggage compartment.

Agent Haddock sprinted after him, while shouting in Pashto at the passengers.

 _"_ _You all stay down!"_ he commanded. Then, with a quick twist, he vanished into the same door Vadim had gone into. Astrid assumed it was the baggage section. Looking down, she saw that she held Agent Haddock's gun in her hands. He had forgotten it!

Astrid was nervous, but she knew that Vadim's gun was sitting on the floor of the plane, useless. So she was in no danger except for the bomb, but distance wouldn't help her there. But she was still afraid. So she stayed for a few more minutes, biting her lip. But she had a weapon, and Agent Haddock needed it. He had saved her before and was trying to save her now. She needed to help him.

So she got out of her seat and ran to the back, the gun in her hand.

* * *

 _"_ _VADIM!"_ Agent Haddock roared. The terrorist, who was kneeling and beeping buttons on a device, looked up.

Agent Haddock, with a shout, leaped across the baggage compartment and tackled the terrorist into a pile of suitcases and bags. The man grunted as Agent Haddock crashed into him, and personal belongings and gear fell in all directions, cluttering the already disorganized baggage compartment. Agent Haddock, on top of the terrorist, reached for Vadim's arm and ripped a small metal device out of his hand. It was a bomb detonator. Agent Haddock hurled it across the compartment, where it clattered away in the vast pile of bags.

Agent Haddock grabbed Vadim by the throat.

 _"_ _Where's the bomb?"_ He snapped, squeezing.

Vadim, gagging, reached up and grabbed Agent Haddock's arms, trying to tear the Agent's strong hands off his neck. Agent Haddock retaliated and kneed Vadim in the gut. The terrorist gasped, his face growing purple. With a gurgle, he wrapped his arm around Agent Haddock's neck and twisted him away. Agent Haddock's hands came loose, and the two men fell to the ground once more, Vadim on top.

 _"_ _You'll never get my bomb!"_ Vadim screamed, hammering at Agent Haddock with his fists. _"Never, you slime!"_

He struck Agent Haddock in the face repeatedly. Blood sprayed from the US Agent's nose and cheekbone. With a cry of rage, Agent Haddock grabbed Vadim's hair and yanked his head backward. Then, with a brutal jab, he struck Vadim in the throat, right on his Adams apple.

Vadim gagged and wheezed, holding his neck. Agent Haddock wrapped his legs around Vadim's waist and threw him. The two men rolled over in the pile of bags, and Agent Haddock gained the upper hand, forcing the terrorist on his back once again. Agent Haddock planted a knee firmly on the man's chest and raised his fist. He then brutally hammered Vadim three times in the face. The man shouted and struggled, but Agent Haddock was merciless, and the terrorist was powerless to resist as Agent Haddock smashed his face. But, as Agent Haddock raised his fist for an eighth time, Vadim smiled ruthlessly, and with such a frightening expression that Agent Haddock froze.

Vadim, spitting up blood, laughed aloud.

 _"_ _You worthless scum,"_ he grinned, a leer on his face. _"Did you really think you could beat me and my precious bomb?"_

Agent Haddock grabbed Vadim's collar _._

 _"_ _What the hell are you saying?"_ He shouted. Vadim leaned forward and spat a massive gob of blood and spit into Agent Haddock's face. Agent Haddock recoiled in disgust, and slammed Vadim's head against a hard suitcase. The man howled in pain.

 _"_ _Tell me!"_ Agent Haddock roared.

Vadim was still laughing, blood coming from his smashed lips.

 _"_ _You failed,"_ he grinned. _"My bomb – it's already timed. You've got only a few minutes before we're all blown to hell, right where you belong."_

 _"_ _FUUCCKK!"_ Agent Haddock shouted, leaping to his feet. _"Damn you, Vadim! Where is it?"_

Vadim was laughing so hard now that he didn't answer. Agent Haddock, in a rage, aimed a kick at the terrorist's head, and it struck home. Vadim Marsiek was silenced, his body going limp against the baggage. He was knocked out.

Agent Haddock scrambled around in the sea of bags and suitcases.

"God dammit!" he shouted. "Labels, I need labels! Which one is Astrid's bag?"

Rapidly, Agent Haddock clambered through the piles of bags, looking for identifiers on the luggage that held the names of the owner. He found them, but, with typical airport baggage carelessness, the luggage was not in any particular form of organization at all. It was impossible to sort them by alphabetical order or size.

"SHIT!" Agent Haddock screamed, realizing the hopelessness of finding the bag in the middle of the luggage chaos. "I've got no time! I need to dump it all!"

Springing over bags and Vadim's limp body to the rear of the section, Agent Haddock reached for the iron handle which held the main door to the baggage compartment. Twisting it with a grunt and a great heave, he threw the big metal door open.

Immediately he was hurled to the back of the compartment by a massive blast of frigid air. Cold gusts of wind whirled around the compartment, and Agent Haddock, the gusts howling in his ears, struggled to get to his feet, his hair whipping in the breeze. When he finally did so and gained his balance, he started to grab bags and throw them out the opening, in no apparent order. They flew into the open space and vanished into the clouds, faster than the eye could see.

Then, as Agent Haddock reached for another bag, he saw a flash of metal and blinking red numerals on the floor, being jostled by the wind. It was detonator that he had taken from Vadim and thrown away during the fight he had just been involved in. Reaching quickly for the device, Agent Haddock brought it to his view, and saw a set of red numbers that indicated a timer. What he saw froze his blood.

48 seconds until detonation.

"SHIIITTTT!" Agent Haddock screamed. "I've got no time to get rid of all the baggage in here! Dammit, which container is Astrid's?"

Agent Haddock, his coat whipping around in the cold wind, realized the hopelessness of his situation. There was at least a hundred bags in the compartment, only one of which was Astrid's, and held the bomb. He had no idea which piece of luggage it was. He considered running back to the main area of the plane to ask her, but that would take too long, and the bomb would explode before he could get back. No. He needed to remember – to remember what the baggage looked like. He had to have seen it when he stormed the Faimahir residence only four hours ago. And he had to remember FAST.

Agent Haddock closed his eyes and replayed the scene that he had experienced that afternoon, cold air whizzing all around him in the compartment. He recollected getting set up outside the sniping area, bantering with the Strike Team, seeing Astrid in the window, killing the three terrorists, and then storming the building to rescue Astrid. He focused deeply, trying to recall. He had kicked open the front door and jumped in, his pistol in front of him. Had there been a piece of luggage near the door? Yes, there had been! He tried to remember the color and shape, but he couldn't until he recalled going back out after extraction, dragging Astrid with him. He had stopped to confirm cover fire with Tuff and Thug. He had been standing right next to something. It had been a bag. A big, blue bag. With a black stripe across the top.

Agent Haddock opened his eyes.

"A big, blue bag with a black stripe!" he shouted triumphantly. Spinning around, he studied the compartment for the bag, air still rushing around him. Time was running out, and he searched frantically with his eyes.

Then he saw it. A big blue bag with a black stripe across the top, exactly as he had remembered it. It was right next to the unconscious body of Vadim Marsiek. Leaping through the winds to the luggage, Agent Haddock grabbed the zipper and turned to look at the timer in his hand. 31 seconds until detonation.

"I need to confirm!" Agent Haddock was still yelling to no one in particular. His sense of mission made it seem like his Team Leader was listening over the radio. Tearing open the zipper on the bag, which was tagged 'Hofferson, Astrid,' he flung open the lid and saw what he was looking for.

The bomb was about five inches long and two inches wide, and wrapped tightly in a white sock. It was a metal device with a cord and transmitter attached. It was beeping.

"Yeah, baby!" Agent Haddock tore the bomb out of the bag and leapt to his feet. He wound up and was about to throw the object off the plane once and for all. But as he reared his arm back, something sharp and jagged slashed the back of his hand, and he shouted in pain. The bomb dropped to the ground with a thud, and Agent Haddock whirled to see what had occurred.

Vadim was there. His face was a bloody mess, and he was holding a serrated knife which was at least six inches long. Blood was trickling down the blade. He had slashed Agent Haddock's hand in a desperate attempt to keep the bomb on the plane.

 _"_ _No!"_ Vadim screamed in Pashto, his clothing whipping in the breeze. _"No! You shall not win, Agent! That bomb shall go off!"_

In a mad rage, he jumped at Agent Haddock, flailing the dagger. Agent Haddock, falling backward, grabbed the knife arm and fell against the wall of the compartment, the bloody knife only inches away from his face. Blood dripped down his sliced hand as Vadim's crazed eyes gleamed from above. Straining with all his might to hold the knife away from his own face, Agent Haddock looked down and saw the detonator on the floor in the corner of his eye. The red numbers taunted him.

15 seconds.

Vadim kicked Agent Haddock brutally in the knee, buckling the bone. With a cry, the Spec Ops Agent fell to one knee, still frantically holding the knife arm. Vadim, blood streaming down his face, roared with triumph. With his other foot, he kicked Agent Haddock solidly in the face, and the brown haired man fell to the ground with a crash, his head banging against the steel wall of the plane. With a cry of victory, Vadim raised the serrated blade to plunge it into Agent Haddock's face.

Agent Haddock, blinking the blood out of his eyes, looked up. He saw the steel blade of the knife above him, and then he caught a glimpse of the timer once again. 08 seconds till detonation. The knife began to descend.

Then there was a loud bang of a gun, and Vadim Marsiek's head snapped backward, blood spraying from a hole in his forehead. The knife fell from his quivering fingers to the floor, right next to Agent Haddock's head. Vadim, his eyes rolling back in his ruined head, fell over backwards, gore pouring from his head where he had been shot and getting taken by the wind, dousing Agent Haddock in blood. Vadim collapsed to the floor, a disgusting gurgling noise coming from his throat. Agent Haddock, sitting up with a groan, whirled to see where the shot had come from.

Astrid Hofferson was standing in the door, Agent Haddock's gun smoking in her hands.

"Henry!" She gasped, lowering the pistol and looking concernedly at Agent Haddock's face. "Are you all right?"

Agent Haddock was snapped back to reality. The bomb!

He yelled and leapt across the luggage to the bomb, which had rolled away among the bags, still wrapped in a now-bloody sock. Seizing the metal contraption, he flung it with all his might out the open door of the plane. It sailed through the open panel at precisely the same moment as the detonator's timer hit 00 seconds.

A roar of an explosion rocked the air behind the airplane, and a blast of hot energy blared into the plane through the open entrance. Agent Haddock was hurled backward by the blast, crashing into Astrid as she stood in the doorway to the plane. They both fell to the floor in the narrow corridor that connected the baggage compartment to the main passenger area, limbs tangling. Astrid landed on top.

The plane shook, and passengers screamed and yelled like the end of the world had come. Astrid, looking up at the open door, saw smoke steaming from the edges of the baggage compartment door, but nothing had been destroyed. The plane had survived the blast. Gasping in fear and relief, she looked down at the beaten man below her.

Agent Haddock lay perfectly still, blood trickling down his face.

"Henry!" Astrid cried, cradling his jaw with her palm. "Henry! Are you alive?"

People from the seats began to get up and crowd around the back of the plane, looking at the two figures on the floor. Flight attendants began to shout for medical kits, and Astrid, fearing the worst, touched Agent Haddock's neck to find a pulse.

Then Henry opened his eyes and blinked wearily.

"Henry?" Astrid asked, her eyes joyful.

Agent Haddock grinned.

"Hi, Milady," he quipped. Reaching up, he touched her cheek, his lip splitting as he grinned from ear to ear.

"You're a crack shot, blondie."

Astrid laughed, and Agent Haddock tugged her down, planting a good kiss on her lips before crushing her in a bear hug, a big grin on his beaten and rugged face.

The people in the airplane all cheered, and Astrid, her face buried in Agent Haddock's shoulder, laughed happily.

* * *

OK! That was so fun to write! Action and romance combined! Anyway, please drop off a review and let me know how I did!

And sorry to abandon this story for about two months, but I promise I'm coming back from hunting – eventually, and hopefully with two moose. I should tap into my hidden sniper skills to hit the target. :)  
Catch you later!

 **Over.**

NatB.


	6. Guns at the Airport

All right!

NatBlake signing back on to Twin Bullets. Wow, it's been a while… about two and a half months. I really hoped to get this posted before now, but with my hunting trip, track, school, and baseball, time hasn't been on my side. And since this story takes a back seat to my other two, it's been neglected. However – here is Chapter 6!

Also, for once, I have an established plan. This story will be concluding in either the next chapter or the one after. It will be my first story that I've finished. So yay!

I _think_ I replied to all the reviewers already, but if I didn't, go ahead and yell at me. However, guests from last chapter:

Fox: Ahh, it's nice to be read by someone who has firsthand experience! And I am far from knowledgeable in my radio voice procedure – LOL. I will keep your advice in mind if I ever decide to write another military AU. :)  
Thanks, so much for the review, Fox – the cunning one, eh?

jade: Thank you thank you! No complaints is my favorite kind of chapter. LOL. I am so glad you like it and approve of the plot/hiccstrid. Hope you continue to enjoy.

tjjenkins: There IS more, pal! Read on and you'll get it! :) Cheers.

Guest: I am updating right now! :)

All right, thanks all reviewers! And my new review policy is to reply to everyone in person, excluding guests (I would but I can't). So if you don't get a personal reply from me, send Agent Haddock to snipe me down. ;)

* * *

Oh, yeah, and one more thing. I have NO idea what any of these cities I mention contain or anything about them at all. My statement in this chapter about how the said city is terrorist-filled is completely unfounded and is only because I decided to pick that city randomly. Just to clarify. :)

Fun time!  
NatB.

* * *

 **Time: 1800 hours  
Location: Zahedon, Pakistan  
Coordinates: (** **29.474535, 60.900539)** **  
Date: April 14, 2017**

Astrid was warm and smug, curled up against Agent Haddock's side.

The two US citizens were sitting together on a couch, in a locked office of the Zahedon International Airport. After the attempted bombing on the Flight 324, the pilot had landed at the nearest airport, and all the passengers were more than happy to disembark, despite the landing site being in the terrorist-filled town of Zahedon. Agent Haddock and Astrid were escorted by airport security to an office, where they were being kept under lock and key for safety concerns. They had a guard assigned outside their door as well. Things were confused and people were trying to find out what was going on. Agent Haddock was one of them.

He had been mad when the airport security had confiscated his gun, the one that Astrid had killed Vadim with. He demanded as a US Special Forces Agent to communicate with his superiors immediately, and his request had been denied. All this, added with the fact that he had his hand sliced open and face hammered, made Agent Haddock quite grumpy as they were taken to a safe place in the airport. He was still grumpy six hours later, when he and Astrid awoke from a much-needed rest.

"This is a mess," Agent Haddock muttered, and Astrid raised an eyebrow to look up at him.

"You think, Steve?"

Agent Haddock chuckled. "Well, I think it's safe to say our code names are abolished," he grinned. "After all, everyone heard my real name and they're going to be spewing it out all over the place. Yours, too. The press will be on this story faster than you can say 'Henry is a badass.'"

Astrid laughed, snuggling closer to Agent Haddock. "Take it easy, Henry," she teased. "You just got rid of a bomb and saved a lot of people's lives. Maybe you should stop stressing so much."

Agent Haddock leaned down and kissed Astrid's nose. "You were the one that saved everybody," he praised. "If you hadn't been a crack shot we all would have died. You're the hero on this one, Milady. I should marry you."

"I thought we were married," Astrid chortled.

"Well, that's great!" Agent Haddock grinned. "I'm fine with that. So I can do _this_ anytime."

He leaned down and cradled Astrid's chin with his unhurt hand, and kissed her. Not on the nose.

After about a solid minute of tongue action and caressing, Agent Haddock released Astrid with a wet smack, and grinned.

"I could DEFINITELY get used to that." He breathed.

Astrid took a deep breath, smiling up at him. "You cad."

Agent Haddock smiled, brushing a hair behind her ear. "I feel like doing that again."

Before he got used to it again, however, they were interrupted. The lock on the office door clicked, and the knob rattled. Agent Haddock jumped to his feet, his hand dropping to his belt and groping for a pistol that wasn't there. The door swung open, and a man entered.

Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. The man was a US soldier, dressed in odd gear, but US nonetheless. He carried a large long box and a smaller one with it. The guard outside closed the door, and the man put his boxes down and saluted.

"Agent Haddock? I'm US Navy Pilot Hunter Warren. I've been ordered by high authority to perform an emergency EVAC operation. However, I was also ordered to make sure you got this as well." He stepped forward and handed Agent Haddock the smaller box. "I suggest you open it without delay."

Agent Haddock asked no questions. He merely took the box and turned to sit down next to Astrid once more. Getting a closer look, Astrid realized it wasn't a box. It was a device – basically a very large IPad. She watched as Agent Haddock flipped up the screen. Now it looked more like a very large laptop.

A passcode entry box appeared on the screen. Agent Haddock frowned at it for a second, and then touched a keypad. His fingers moved lightning fast. Then the passcode clicked, and the screen faded from black to – to an advanced version of FaceTime.

There was a familiar face on the screen, scowling with authoritative disgust at Agent Haddock and Astrid. Agent Haddock spoke.

"Well, howdy there, Colonel."

"Agent Haddock." Colonel Jorgenson, the big man on the screen, was utterly expressionless. "You are making a Goddamn nuisance of yourself. I let you alone for TWO minutes, and then you have to go and reveal your Special Ops identity and throw a fucking bomb off a commercial airplane. What the hell is going on over there?"

"Well, in case you weren't able to figure this out, sir, I have absolutely no regrets," Agent Haddock chuckled wryly. "And with respect, sir, my mission was to return Miss Hofferson to Paris safely and unharmed. It was impossible to get her back unharmed and safe if she was blown to pieces by an explosive. Just in case you didn't know."

Astrid stifled a giggle, and the Colonel glared at her over the screen before returning to Agent Haddock.

"Stow the gab, Agent Haddock," he snapped. "However, you were correct to take out that bomb."

"That bomb," Agent Haddock growled, his voice getting angry, "was put in that bag by the same terrorists who I shot yesterday. YOU, your own men, put that bag on the plane and somehow it got missed? How in the name of God did that happen? I should be one pissed off right now, sir."

"Well, believe it or not, I am NOT angry in the slightest," Colonel Jorgenson smiled. "In fact, I am very pleased. That incident with the bomb has already drastically improved our foreign relations with Paris. One of our Agents disabled a bomb that was heading for them and which would have done untold damage. The United States is being given all kinds of accolades all over the world."

"Wait." Agent Haddock leaned forward. "How the hell does the world know about it already, sir?"

Colonel Jorgenson stared. "Have you seen the papers yet, Agent Haddock?"

"Dammit, of course I haven't!" Agent Haddock snapped. "I was sleeping."

"Then get one."

Agent Haddock turned, where the Navy Pilot was already handing him a newspaper. It was actually written in English, and it was recent.

"That story is now in EVERY country, EVERYwhere," Colonel Jorgenson said. "Not the exact one, but similar to it. Your actions are being looked at universally as heroism."

Astrid was staring. There, right on the front cover of the New York Times, was HER. She was descending from the plane that had been saved, Agent Haddock beside her with his arm draped over her shoulders. They both looked truly badass.

For once Agent Haddock looked truly stunned. He was gaping, and he read aloud,

 _"_ _The bomb was heroically disabled by the work of two United States Special Forces Agents, whose names are currently unconfirmed, but one of them was Special Forces Strike Agent 13, Henry Haddock. Shown in the above picture, the second Special Forces Agent, who boarded the plane under the name Astrid Hofferson, was said to have fired the shot that killed the terrorist on board, saving hundreds of lives. It was a heroic act of courage and showed just how much the United States cares about international terrorism. President..."_

Agent Haddock looked up. "This is NOT good, Colonel!" He shouted, throwing the newspaper across the room. Pages fluttered everywhere. "Don't you realize what just happened, sir?! Our cover is BLOWN! We are wide open! I had to tell them who I was, they just put my REAL name, Agent Henry Haddock, in the NATIONAL news! And her, she's now being looked at as a Special Ops Agent under her REAL name, Astrid Hofferson! Colonel, these terrorists have been in action for years! They will be pissed to hell that we foiled them yesterday! They will come hunting scalps, beginning with hers!" He pointed to Astrid. "She killed Vadim! They will be after her and they know her real name!"

"Relax, Agent Haddock." The Colonel was terse. "It's a lot WORSE than you think. We have reason to believe that the terrorists are now trying to get a hold of you right NOW."

"WHAT!" Agent Haddock leapt to his feet. "What is this? I've been sleeping, resting, relaxing for the past six hours and you tell me that terrorists are after me right NOW!?"

"Yes. You are in the city of Zahedon. It's filled with angry terrorists that want you and the Miss Hofferson dead. They're on their way to your location and many are already in the airport. And now we need to get you out of there."

"Well, no SHIT!" Agent Haddock was livid. "You know what, I'm sick of this! You're not taking care of me, sir! I just made you look like the smartest man alive, sticking me on an airplane where you assumed that bomb would be there! And you don't have the decency to get me, and her, out of here?"

"Shut up, Agent Haddock!" the Colonel snapped. "We are doing the best we can. There is no military outpost in Zahedon. We could do nothing but send you a plane to extract you immediately, which we have already done. Navy Pilot Hunter Warren is with you right now. He just flew in an F-18 Dual-seated Hornet. You, with Miss Hofferson in escort, will fly that plane to the USS Idaho, an aircraft carrier off the coast of the Indian Ocean. I'm on it with Agents Thorston and Butcher. I believe you can fly a fighter?"

"I can." Agent Haddock was hoarse. "How much time do we have, sir?"

"Probably none. There are terrorists all over the area. No doubt there are at least ten in the airport already, trying to hunt you and Miss Hofferson down and kill you both. I was half-surprised Warren managed to find you before they did."

"Then we have to move." Agent Haddock turned to the Navy Pilot. "Where is the F-18, soldier?"

"I'm under orders to escort you to it," the Navy Pilot stated. "Whenever you're ready. I have weapons for both of you, as instructed."

Agent Haddock turned back to the screen.

"So long, Colonel," he said. "Hopefully I'll see you soon, on the Idaho. If not, I'll see you in Hell, where I'll be pumping lava with you at three cents a clap."

"Godspeed, Agent Haddock."

The connection on the monitor went, and it faded to black.

Astrid got to her feet. Her legs were shaking in utter shock and fear.

"There are terrorists in this airport?" She gasped.

"They're all over it." Agent Haddock snapped the screen shut and rose. Tossing the device across the room, he turned to the Navy Pilot. "Weapons?"

"In here." The Navy Pilot snapped open the large black case he had carried in. Astrid stared as Agent Haddock pulled out two large machine guns. The Navy Pilot took out a third. Agent Haddock turned to Astrid.

"Ever shot a gun before yesterday?"

"I went out on – on the range once, like five years ago," Astrid stammered, still staring at the guns. "Why?"

"Because this is for you." Agent Haddock handed her one of the machine guns.

"What is this?" Astrid asked nervously. "I don't know how this works!"

"That is an AK-47 assault rifle," Agent Haddock said. "Simple gun. That's your magazine right there," he tapped the underside of the rifle, "Here's your trigger. When it doesn't shoot anymore unlock the magazine like this," he pressed a lever on the gun and the magazine fell out, "and put in a new one like this." He reattached the magazine. "And start shooting."

"But I won't have to shoot anyone, will I?" Astrid took the gun.

Agent Haddock didn't answer. He turned to the Navy Pilot. "Ready, soldier? What's your name again?"

"Navy Pilot Hunter Warren, and I'm always ready." Warren grinned.

"Then let's bust out of this, Warren." Agent Haddock walked to the door and nodded to Warren. "Cover it."

He spun the knob and hurled the door open. The airport guard stationed by the door whirled to face them. His face paled as he saw the two US soldiers armed with machine guns.

"You – you said it was just a conference," the guard spluttered at Warren, stepping back in fear.

"A conference of war," Warren snapped. He pointed his gun at the guard's chest. "Sit down and shut up. Or better yet, get out of here."

The guard needed no more encouraging. He was gone like a shot.

Agent Haddock stepped into the hall and looked both ways before motioning to Astrid and Warren. "Hallway's clear. Move."

Warren jumped through the door and took up the lead as Astrid followed him out. Agent Haddock helped her in front of him, and took up the rear. Warren began to move cautiously to the right.

"The service entrance for the Landing Bay is this way," he told Astrid and Agent Haddock. "It's the quickest way to the plane, and it's not through any public area where we're likely to encounter terrorists. When we get to the plane, you two get the hell out. I have to stay."

"You won't need to encourage that," Agent Haddock grinned. "Why -"

Screams erupted from down the hallway. Warren, in front, tensed and froze. Agent Haddock grabbed Astrid and tugged her down. Astrid dropped to a knee, clenching her gun tightly as Agent Haddock jumped up to the front with Warren. More screams were coming, and this time Astrid could hear them plainly. People were shouting in Pashto. She couldn't understand it, but Agent Haddock and Warren could, and what they heard did not please them.

 _"_ _Americans! ?Americans!? Where are the American Agents?!"_

 _"_ _We don't know!"_ several voices yelled back.

 _"_ _Then die!"_

Gunfire roared and people screamed – not screams of terror, but screams of agony. Astrid saw Warren's shoulders twitch with rage.

"They're killing innocents," Agent Haddock breathed. "For the love of Christ."

"They're animals." Warren was bitter.

All of a sudden a voice sounded much closer.

 _"_ _Go that way! I'll check the hall!"_

"Get down, Astrid!" Agent Haddock snapped, and he and Warren dropped to one knee. Their guns went up, fingers on the trigger. The door at the end of the hallway burst open, and two mean-looking men with Uzi submachine guns stepped into the hall.

It was the last steps they ever took.

Blood sprayed all over the open door and walls as Agent Haddock and Warren opened fire. The two terrorists collapsed to the floor, shot to doll rags.

Shouts of surprise and anger came from the main area.

 _"_ _Agents! The Agents are in there! Move! Get them!"_

Warren leapt to his feet. His eyes were blazing.

"We can't get out that way anymore!" He barked hoarsely. "You'll have to go through the door down the hall, second on the right! It leads to gate L3, through which you can get to the Landing Bay right next to my F-18 Hornet. I'll hold these fuckers off. Go!"

Agent Haddock wasted no time. "Get up, Astrid!" he snapped, hauling her to her feet. "Let's get out of here!"

Astrid gripped her rifle feverishly as she scrambled up. Her heart was hammering. Shouts and gunshots were coming from the main area, and people were coming after them. Hurrying down the hall, Agent Haddock reached the third door on the right.

"Get in there!" Warren shouted. "I'm going to fight these assholes off!"

"Bullshit!" Agent Haddock snapped. "Stay here and get killed for me? I don't think so! Besides, you know the route best. Get your ass over here!"

Warren didn't argue. He leapt up to the door and threw it open. Then he yelled. There was a man kneeling in the hall, a rifle pointed at the door. Warren tried to aim his gun, but it was too late.

For the second time in two days Astrid got doused in someone else's blood. Warren, standing in front of her, took a round of bullets in the upper body, right in front of Astrid. The Navy Pilot collapsed to the ground. Astrid stood frozen, petrified as the terrorist raised his gun again. Even as he did, two more armed men jumped from a door behind the first. Astrid saw three muzzles pointed at her. She was about to die.

Then Astrid was hurled to the ground. Her head hit the wall and she fell to the floor with a cry, her gun clattering away on the now-bloody floor. Agent Haddock, having thrown Astrid to the ground, stepped over her and blazed away. Screams and shouts came from down the hall as Agent Haddock's telling accuracy took effect.

Then Astrid shrieked, clutching at her neck. Something was burning her. Then another searing hot thing fell down her shirt. And a third. Astrid screamed, writing as she clutched at her neck.

Agent Haddock, ceasing fire, reached down and hauled Astrid to her feet. With a hand, he untucked her shirt from her waist and three hot shell casings fell down to the floor. They had fallen from Agent Haddock's weapon. Astrid gasped in relief. Agent Haddock handed Astrid her fallen gun.

"Take that and let's go!" He shouted. "There's gotta be more of these fuckers! Move!"

Astrid, her heart pounding, took the weapon. Warm liquid was dripping down the muzzle. It was blood. Swallowing, Astrid tried to ignore it and sprinted behind Agent Haddock down the hall, taking a glance at the fallen body of Navy Pilot Warren. He was more than dead, and he had saved her life. Astrid didn't spare a look for the three terrorists that Agent Haddock had killed.

Astrid had no idea how, but Agent Haddock seemed to know exactly where he was going. He darted through seemingly random doors and hallways, but in almost no time he arrived at a door that had a sign above it. It was in Pashto, but Astrid saw the numbers.

Gate L3.

"This way," Agent Haddock said quietly. There were still shouts and gunshots in the distance behind them. "The F-18 is right outside this door, which leads directly to the tarmac. The only problem is that the terrorists aren't dumb and will know that it's our ride out. They'll have it covered if there's half as many as I think there are. So if we make a run for it, we'll probably be gunned down in something less than two seconds."

Astrid gulped.

"So here's the plan." Agent Haddock was stern. "Are you getting this, Milady? Listen very carefully."

Astrid nodded, trying to ignore the blood dripping down the side of her face. "I'm listening."

"I'm going to go up the service stairs to the second level. I'm a sniper; from there I'll locate all the terrorists guarding that plane and take them out. Then I'll whistle. When you hear that whistle, open that door and run for the F-18."

"I don't know what an F-18 looks like," Astrid said.

"You'll be able to tell. It's an F-18 Hornet - it'll be by far the most badass-looking plane out there." Agent Haddock grinned, which Astrid though impossible under the circumstances. "And it'll have a US flag or symbol painted on the side. Run out to it, and ZIGZAG! I may not have sniped all the terrorist guards by then. If you get shot at, keep calm and keep running. I'll be covering you. Once you get to the F-18, open the hatch and get in the co-pilot's seat. You got that?"

"Yes," Astrid said.

"All right. Now, once you're in the seat, take your rifle and point it at the door you're about to go out of. You'll see me drop from somewhere on the second level. Do NOT shoot me. I will run to the plane and you will need to cover me."

"What does that mean?" Astrid asked.

"Haven't you seen any military movies?" Agent Haddock chuckled. "Just shoot at anything that has a gun and is NOT me. How's that?"

"Umm, sure," Astrid said slowly.

"You got all that?"

"Yes."

"So what do you do if you get shot at while running to the plane?"

"I – I keep calm, keep running and, umm, zigzag."

"And what do you NOT shoot at?"

"You."

"Great. You're the perfect Special Ops Agent. I'm definitely marrying you. All right, ready?"

"Yes."

"Then wait for my whistle, and don't get killed while I'm gone."

Agent Haddock threw his AK-47 over his back and clambered up the metal ladder next to the door. In a minute he was out of sight on the second level.

Astrid didn't know how long after Agent Haddock left that the shots came, but they came all right. A fusillade of shots roared over her head and distant screams of men dying came to her ears. Then a sound came even more terrifying.

Footsteps.

Astrid scrambled to point her gun at the hall. She held it at her shoulder and placed a shaking finger on the trigger. The footsteps sounded closer, and a mean-sounding voice came, speaking Pashto.

Then two men stepped out of the hall, both carrying guns and looking savage. They stopped and yelled in both surprise and terror when they saw Astrid.

Astrid slammed her finger down on the trigger and screamed, closing her eyes. The big gun recoiled against her shoulder as she fired, bullets roaring through the air. Yells and screams came to her ears, and other unpleasant noises. She gasped and stopped firing, opening her eyes.

She almost puked. The two men that had come through the door were utterly mangled, and one was writhing on the floor. Blood was all over. Astrid felt her stomach turn, and she would have certainly thrown up if she hadn't heard a noise.

A distinct whistle. It was time.

Astrid gritted her teeth and clutched the gun tightly. Then she steeled herself, went to the door marked L3, and threw it open, stepping off to the side.

No shots came at her. In a quick glance Astrid saw that Agent Haddock's surmises had been completely correct. There, a mere 30 yards away, was a fighter jet that was certainly the aircraft that Warren had flown in for them. It had US markings and the hatch was already up. Surrounding the area were a few front-end-loaders and baggage cars. They provided good cover for her trip. All she needed to do was run across the concrete to the F-18.

And not get killed while doing so.

Ignoring the three bleeding corpses that surrounded the plane – Agent Haddock's handiwork - Astrid threw the gun over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and ran out into the open, zigzagging towards the aircraft.

There was no shots – at least, not at first. Then something roared from her upper left and bullets began to smack into the tarmac next to her.

Astrid didn't know how she managed it, but she didn't panic. She simply kept running and zigzagging as fast as she could. Then another gun spoke up behind her, and someone screamed. A body fell from the baggage car to her left and hit the concrete with a thud. The terrorist that had shot at her was dead.

Agent Haddock was lethal. There was no more bullets coming anywhere near her.

After that, Astrid ignored Agent Haddock's advice and stopped zigzagging. She just took off for the F-18 on a straight line. It was so close – fifteen yards – ten – five – she was there. Reaching out with bloody hands, Astrid gripped the handles and hauled herself up to the open hatch. She tumbled into the co-pilot's seat, and fell limp for a second, gasping in relief. Then she remembered she still had a job to do.

Struggling to a kneeling position, she tugged her AK-47 off her back and placed it on the edge of the hatch. She aimed at the door that she had just come from, the black muzzle of the AK-47 trained on the letters L3. Now she had Agent Haddock covered and he could come to the plane with her.

Not a second after she had done that, Agent Haddock appeared from seemingly nowhere in an open window on the second level of the airport. He dropped thirty feet to the concrete, and Astrid winced as he struck the ground. However, Agent Haddock recovered with a quick roll, absorbing the landing smoothly. Without a backwards glance he ran to the airplane at a dead sprint. Astrid tore her eyes off him and focused on anything, trying to see if anyone was about to shoot at Agent Haddock. Nothing.

Agent Haddock reached the plane, and his hands scrambled at the handles. But just then, Astrid whipped her eyes to the door, and it was opening. Two terrorists came out, wielding guns.

"Look out Henry!" Astrid screamed, and opened fire. But her aim was bad at such a long distance. One of the men reeled and spun, his gun clattering to the tarmac, but the second yelled in rage and raised his machine gun. He fired.

Agent Haddock was almost in the cockpit when the man pulled his trigger. Astrid ducked involuntarily as enemy bullets smashed holes in the canopy and ripped into the metal side of the aircraft. Then she heard a cry from Agent Haddock. He tried to clamber over the edge of the cockpit and fell, his AK-47 clattering to the ground below. He spilled over the edge and onto Astrid. He was hit.

"Henry!" Astrid screamed, and fired wildly once more at the man with the gun. Miraculously, she got him. His head whiplashed and blood sprayed. Another kill.

Astrid lowered her gun and reached for the fallen Agent Haddock. He was rolling over the co-pilot's seat, writhing.

"He got me in the arm!" he groaned. "Damn! Shit! I can't fly the plane!"

"No!" Astrid gasped.

"I just can't!" Agent Haddock spluttered. Blood was pouring from three spots on his left side. Astrid gasped, he hadn't just been hit in the arm - his side and shoulder were bleeding too. He had taken not one, but three bullets.

"What are we going to do?!" Astrid screamed.

"I can't fly it," Agent Haddock groaned. "So you'll have to do it!"

"WHAT!?" Astrid shrieked.

"You have a pilot's license," Agent Haddock stated, his voice laced with pain. "I saw that in your file."

"But I've never flown a FIGHTER before!" Astrid screamed.

"It's not that hard," Agent Haddock groaned. "Get in the pilot's seat! I'll tell you what to do. First, shut the damn canopy."

Astrid, her body trembling with adrenaline, dropped her gun and scrambled over the groaning Agent Haddock to the pilot's seat. She reached up and pulled the canopy down. It came with ease, and clicked into place over the cockpit. The plane was ready to take off.

"There's your joystick!" Agent Haddock pointed. "There's your controls! And there's your runway!" He pointed ahead. "Get out of here."

"Damn you, Henry!" Astrid said bitterly. But then her pilot's experience kicked in. She had never seen a plane like this, but she got the idea quickly. In a few seconds the wheels were turning, and she spun the aircraft onto the runway.

"Hang on, Henry!" Astrid said, gripping the joystick. "We're about to take off. Are you all right?"

"Ladies, and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts for takeoff," Agent Haddock muttered sarcastically, although his face was laced with pain.

Astrid giggled, and threw the throttle forward. The F-18 began to roar down the runway, at a faster pace than any plane Astrid had ever flown. She yelled as the jet's sheer power and speed kicked in. The F-18 thundered into the air, and Astrid hurriedly checked her upward progress and folded in the landing gear.

"Whew," Agent Haddock breathed. "That was way too close."

"It – was," Astrid murmured, focusing on her flying. She turned to the back seat and handed Agent Haddock a headset. "Put that on or you'll go deaf."

"Thank you, Milady," Agent Haddock smiled, and with his free hand struggled into the headgear. He adjusted his microphone and spoke.

"You hear me, blondie?"

"Yeah," Astrid replied, over her headset. "And now is not the time to flirt with me, joker. I'm busy."

"There's never a bad time to flirt with you, Milady," Agent Haddock smiled.

"Even when I am flying an F-18 Hornet, which is moving way faster than any other plane I have ever flown, and you are writhing in the back seat with three bullets in you?" Astrid asked, laughing.

"Two bullets, Milady," Agent Haddock stated. "One went right through me."

"That's – umm, pleasant." Astrid grimaced as she adjusted the course of the plane a little bit. "And, umm, where exactly are we going again?"

"To – to whatever it says on that paper, 96 degrees south, 35 degrees west," Agent Haddock grunted. His teeth were gritted, and he had torn off some of his shirt to staunch his side and shoulder wounds. The one on his arm he covered with his unhurt hand.

"96 degrees south, 35 west," Astrid repeated to herself as she adjusted her turn. "Wait! That's – that's – an AIRCRAFT CARRIER!"

"Oh shit." Agent Haddock muttered. "Right. I forgot. Oh SHIT."

Astrid grew deadly calm. "Is it really hard to land on an aircraft carrier?" she whispered.

Agent Haddock turned his pained green eyes up to meet Astrid's.

"It's incredibly hard."

* * *

I needed to end this chapter right here but it kind of felt abrupt. Anyway... what do you think? Can Astrid manage to land an F-18 on an aircraft carrier? Or will they have to eject or will they crash? Look for chapter 7 to find out!

And the plane Astrid is flying is the fighter jet F-18 Hornet, as mentioned. It looks badass – look it up if you want.

And a big thanks to Deathjest for providing the name of the Navy Pilot for this chapter. It worked out great.

 **Over.**


	7. Twin Bullets

All right, Twin Bullets is coming to a close! Welcome to the last chapter. Well, it's technically the last, but there will be an epilogue after it. I was going to end it here originally, but had to alter the plans to make things easier. With that said, here is chapter seven, closing out the last bits of action and glory. Read on!

 **Guest reviewers, replies right here.**

Guest: Thank you for reading! I hope this chapter will be as good… read on!

Jade: So glad you keep liking it!

Thanks so much!

Oh, yeah, and once more, feel free to laugh at my pathetic depiction of all things military. I'm not even sure it's physically possible to do some of the thing that happen in this chapter. So... yeah.

* * *

"And that's all there is to it!"

Agent Haddock gave Astrid a pained smile. "Not so bad, is it?"

"Umm, if you say so," Astrid chuckled nervously. "ALL I have to do is watch the waves, the carrier speed, the tilt, the angles, and – oh boy."

Agent Haddock managed a chuckle, and reached out to touch Astrid on the shoulder. "Hey, you're going to do just perfect," he told her.

Astrid was about to smile back, but Agent Haddock suddenly recoiled. He gasped, bent over, and coughed violently. Air wheezed out his lungs, and coagulated blood dripped from his lips. He coughed again, spitting out more blood.

"Henry!" Astrid tore her eyes off the sea in front of her and turned to look back at the Agent. "Are you all right?!"

"I'm – fine," Agent Haddock whispered. Then he spasmed again, and a sickening wheeze came from his chest.

Astrid immediately switched the plant to autopilot. Taking her hands off the controls, she turned all the way around to look at Agent Haddock in the rear seat.

"No, you are NOT OK," Astrid said firmly. "You're not telling me something, Henry."

"It's – nothing," Agent Haddock groaned. His arm was pressed across his chest and gripping his bleeding left arm.

"No, it isn't," Astrid told him. "Take your arm away."

"Astrid, it's -"

"Take your damn arm away!"

Astrid reached over and pulled Agent Haddock's arm off his chest. Then she saw it, and gasped in horror. How could she have missed it earlier? There was a ragged bullet hole in the left side of his leather jacket. With a cry of pity, Astrid tore open the coat. Her expression froze.

Agent Haddock had been shot in the chest.

"Oh my God," Astrid whispered. "I – oh my God."

"It's nothing," Agent Haddock whispered. But his voice was quiet – very quiet.

"Stop lying to me!" Astrid cried, tearing off the sleeve of her blue sweater. "My God, you're shot in the chest! Why didn't you tell me!?"

Tears in her eyes, Astrid placed her cloth over the wound, which was high on his left pec, and pressed down. It became soiled with blood almost immediately.

Feverishly, Astrid grabbed a roll of duct tape from the back seat and wrapped it around his chest, pinning the compress on Agent Haddock's chest.

"Duct tape – fixes everything," Agent Haddock grinned, but he did not look well. His eyes were going dull and lifeless.

"No, Henry!" Astrid cried, tugging his jacket back over the wound. "Stay awake!"

"I am awake," Agent Haddock muttered. "But I do feel awful tired, Astrid."

Leaning forward, Astrid hugged Agent Haddock tightly. "Don't you die, Henry," she begged, tears flowing. "You can't! Stay with me, stay -"

A loud beep sounded in Astrid's headset, and in Agent Haddock's, too. Both of them winced at the loud sound. Then there was static, and a radio connection was established.

"USS Idaho to F-18 Extract, this is Team Leader Ingerman, do you read me, over?" a voice came.

Agent Haddock groaned. "Aye, Agent Haddock here. We're on course - to land on the carrier - in three minutes, over."

"Roger that. However, orders have changed. Is the girl on the radio, over?"

"Yes, she's flying the plane, over."

"What? Why!?"

"Because I've been hit. I – I think I'm dying. Have a medical team ready for our arrival."

"Mother of God. All right, roger that. Get the girl off the headset. I have classified orders for you alone."

"Copy that, Team Leader. Astrid, take off your headset."

"Henry, you are NOT going to die!"

"Just take off your damn headset, blondie."

Astrid obeyed, removing her headset and placing it on its cradle by the controls. Fighting back tears, she focused on flying the speedy aircraft over the water. She heard Agent Haddock muttering into the headset behind her. He was grunting 'Roger that' and 'WHAT?' and then was dead silent for a long time. Then he said, 'Copy, Team Leader,' and took a slow, deep breath.

"What was all that about?" Astrid asked, turning to look concernedly back at Agent Haddock.

Agent Haddock's face was drawn tight, and he was clearly in a lot of pain. But he shook his head.

"Nothing to be worried about, Blondie. It's all under control."

"Umm, there is a lot to worry about! What about you? If we land, are they going to get you? Can you survive that long?"

"Of course."

"They'd better!" Astrid was bordering hysterical.

"Hey, calm down, girl," Agent Haddock grunted. "Just focus on landing this plane. OK? And see, there it is. The USS Idaho, dead ahead."

Astrid swallowed and stared out the windows ahead of her. Looming in the cloudy seas ahead was the formidable form and shape of an aircraft carrier.

"OK," Astrid breathed. "It's time. How's my height?"

"Go a little lower," Agent Haddock commanded. Decrease altitude slowly to 220 feet and then maintain it as you approach the deck."

"Right." Astrid, forcing her arm to be steady, lowered the altitude and began a steady descent towards the carrier.

"And put your headset back on," Agent Haddock muttered.

Astrid quickly placed the headgear back over her head, her blonde hair spilling out behind the helmet. She heard a voice in her ear.

"Miss Hofferson, this is Strike Team Leader Frank Ingerman. I'm here to walk you through the landing process."

"Umm, OK," Astrid breathed. "Right now I'm descending to land – I'm going to 220 feet. Is that good?"

"Perfect." The Team Leader had a smooth, easygoing voice, and Astrid found listening to him immensely calming. "Then you'll have to approach the landing runway at a dead straightaway for 800 feet, and slowly dip to the level of the flight deck. Keep in mind that you MUST land early, or else you'll have too much speed built up and you'll just go right off the other side."

"Right." Astrid's altitude hit 220 feet, and she corrected to maintain her course. "Now steady at 220 feet."

"Very good. Approach the carrier."

Astrid took a deep breath as she slowly began to drop down to the flight deck of the huge ship. It was only just now that Astrid realized just how enormous aircraft carriers really are.

Astrid forgot about Agent Haddock in the adrenaline-filled excitement that followed. She kept getting lower and lower, closer and closer to the ship. Her speed was perfect. Her angles were perfect. The aircraft carrier was not rocking to an intolerable extreme. Team Leader Ingerman kept telling her all this as he spoke.

Astrid was now so close she could see the white lines on the runway. However, her attention was diverted for a brief second. Things didn't look right. There was absolutely no other aircraft of ANY kind on the flight deck. There was a minimal amount of vehicles, and an even fewer number of people. She wondered where the medical team that was to take Agent Haddock was.

She was now a mere hundred yards from the carrier, and Team Leader Ingerman cheered in her headphones.

"Bravo, Astrid! You've absolutely nailed it. Just keep on going." He then paused. "And have a nice landing."

The connection went. Astrid was startled, she had no idea that he would cut off communication so abruptly.

"Hello?" She called. "Hello?"

There was no reply. Nervous, Astrid re-checked her speed and angle. She was still on perfect course, a mere 500 yards from the ship.

Agent Haddock chuckled.

"Well – you stuck that landing," he laughed.

"Thanks," Astrid replied.

"Too bad we'll never get to actually see it."

Astrid whirled.

"What?!"

Henry had a strange look in his green eyes. Without warning, he reached forward into the front and grabbed the joystick, hurling it over to the right.

"SHHHHIIIIIITTT!" Astrid screamed, as the plane began to swing to the right, way out of control. "What are YOU DOING! We will crash, we will be killed -"

A hand clutched the yellow ejection handle by the rear of her seat. She whirled to look back at Agent Haddock, even as the aircraft began to spin out of control.

"I'll see you at the end of the line, sweetheart," he said. And pulled the handle.

Astrid stared at Henry's calm, collected look even as her seat jerked loose from its position. She screamed, and her helmet crashed into the glass canopy of the cockpit as her entire seat got ejected from the plane. She yelled in utter terror as she was hurled into the rush of the warm air over the Indian Ocean.

For three terrifying seconds she was free falling through the air, hundreds of feet above the water. The roar of the plane was in her ears and so was the wind. It was as if the world was standing still.

Her parachute snapped open.

Gasping in relief, Astrid felt the huge resistance of the parachute take effect. Her progress towards the ocean was slowed, and she gripped the lines that suspended her in the air. Too afraid to look down, she instead looked up to find where the plane was.

And screamed.

The F-18 was spinning out of control, twisting directly towards the aircraft carrier. There was no other parachute in the air. Agent Haddock was still in the plane!

Her headset picked up radio transmission. Through the windy seas and the roar of the F-18 she could hear what was being said – and who was saying it. It was Agent Haddock.

"We are on a crash course!" he shouted into the headset. "Everything going as planned!"

Team Leader Frank barked back at him. "Is the girl out!?"

"Yeah, she ejected! Do you see a chute!?"

"Yes! She's clear and we're sending a boat for her! It's already in the water! Now we need to see your chute! Get out of there!"

"No encouragement needed!" Agent Haddock replied, with a hint of humor.

There was a moment of silence. All Astrid could hear was the roar of the F-18's engines as it careened to a certain crash into the flight deck of the aircraft carrier. Then Agent Haddock's frantic voice sounded in her headset…

"Shit! SHIT!"

"Henry!? What's going on?"

"My – my Goddamm seat is jammed!"

"Hurry up! You're going to crash in a few seconds!"

"It – won't – fucking – come!"

"HENRY!" Astrid screamed, staring in horror at the plane. It was about to crash. Team Leader Ingerman blurted one last and final shout.

"EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!"

The F-18 smashed sideways into the flight deck. A thunderous explosion rocked the air, and orange flames roared up from the wreckage. Black smoke began to coil upwards, and alarms sounded on the carrier, loud enough for her to hear them from where she was.

Astrid was still gasping in horror. There had been no ejection, no parachute, and now the radio was only static.

Agent Haddock was dead.

As she was coming to grips with that reality, tears leaking from her eyes, she hit the water.

SPLASH!

She wasn't shocked to the point of hysteria, and the water was very warm compared to what she was used to. But she was frantically worried about the parachute. It came and landed in the water behind her, and she was afraid that it would drag her down.

Feverishly, she found the clips that attached her to the parachute and unsnapped them with as much speed as she could. Then, her nerves still shaking, she began to tread water, riding slow, firm, waves. She hoped there was no hungry sharks nearby.

"Hello!" A voice came from the distance. "HELLO!"

"I'm HERE!" Astrid screamed, moving her arms. "Over here!"

There was a roar of a motor, and Astrid looked up just in time to see a large metal boat hull come bearing down on her at full speed. Her head, still encased in its helmet, hit the boat, and she lost consciousness.

* * *

 **3 DAYS LATER**

* * *

Astrid's vision faded in and out. In and out. In and out.

She blinked a few times, her mind still in a daze. Then she managed to see that she was no longer in the water, nor was she still in her old clothes. She was lying in a clean, soft bed with white sheets and a clean, pleasant smell.

"Well, hello there," A voice said, coming from her right. "The heroine is awake."

Astrid slowly turned her head to look at the man who spoke. It was a lean, muscular guy with a goofy face and long blonde hair, who was standing by the bed pouring a drink of coffee.

"You recognize me?" he asked jokingly, reaching out to press his palm against Astrid's forehead, checking her temperature.

"Your phone number," Astrid told him slowly, "Is 376 – 4554."

"No fucking way!" Agent Thorston laughed, removing his hand. "How did you remember that?"

"I have a good memory." Astrid managed a smile. "Bullets, babes, beer, and bullets."

"Ha HA!" Agent Thorston slapped his thighs. "You nailed it." He handed her the cup of coffee.

Astrid's smile faded as she recalled what had happened. She did not take the coffee.

"Henry," she gasped, surging up in bed. "What happened to him?!"

"Whoa, relax!" Tuff said, easing her back down to the pillow. "Don't worry so much. Haddock is fine. His seat wouldn't eject until the last second, and he only barely escaped the crash. However, his parachute was unable to break his fall to the flight deck and he broke his right leg, below the knee. He was also shot up pretty badly. He was in unstable condition all of yesterday, but as of this morning he is on his way to an active recovery."

"Oh, thank God," Astrid whispered. A tear leaked from her eye, and she hastily wiped it away. "I thought he was dead. How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days." Tuff grinned as Astrid's eyes widened in shock. "Yeah, I know, that's a long time. But the doctor said it was normal, with the lack of sleep you've gotten along with all the stress."

"I – I suppose," Astrid whispered. "But thank God. Henry's alive."

Tuff patted her shoulder. "Yeah, I was afraid he wouldn't make it, either. But he pulled through. However, my glory days fighting with him are now over. He'll never be able to go on a mission again."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Astrid smiled. "He'll have to settle down."

"It's not. But right, maybe he will finally settle down. Anyway, I am actually REQUIRED to take you to him now that you are awake. You feel like walking?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Astrid asserted, getting excited as he told her she was to see Henry. "I mean, it's just a bump on the head."

"Well then get your ass out of bed!" Tuff laughed.

Astrid, laughing with him, flung off the covers and swung her legs off the bed. She was dressed in white slacks and a white shirt, both immaculately clean. She felt stiff and sore all over, but got to her feet, stretched, and yawned heavily.

She smoothed out some wrinkles and looked up at Tuff. "So, where is he?"

"Where do you think?" Tuff laughed, walking ahead of Astrid to the door. "The medical area. Follow me."

Barefoot and dressed in white, Astrid felt slightly awkward as she followed Tuff down busy hallways filled with armed soldiers in uniform. But the realization that Agent Haddock was still alive was still fresh in her mind, and she found herself able to ignore the looks and stares that she got.

"Here we are," Tuff suddenly announced, and opened a door leading to a medical room. From this room there was a clear window that had a view of a bed, and someone in it. Entering, Astrid cried out in pity.

Agent Haddock was lying on the bed, with bandages on almost every part of his body. The only thing that remained uncovered was his head, and even that had minor scrapes on his cheek. His chest was completely wrapped up and his arm was in a cast.

And, horrifyingly, his left leg was suspended in the air, missing from the knee down. A clean white bandage was the only thing that remained of his left leg.

A tired-looking doctor was standing by the door, and he looked up as Astrid and Tuff entered.

"Oh, Henry!" Astrid cried, tears running down her cheeks. "I – he – how is he?"

"He'll live," the doctor said wearily. Then his eyes sharpened and he looked at Astrid with interest and respect. "Are you the one who wrapped the shirt and duct tape around his chest?"

"I – I did," Astrid admitted, her eyes still fixed on the inert form of Agent Haddock.

"Well, allow me to congratulate you," the doctor said with unreserved admiration. "You unquestionably saved his life. If that bullet wound was not staunched he would have died of blood loss before I could have done anything. As it was, he barely survived, but thanks to you, he was saved. Well," the doctor managed a grin, "Most of him."

Astrid was still blinking back tears. "Is – is he awake? Can I - go talk to him?"

The doctor shrugged. "He's very tired from blood loss and stress," he told her, "But the danger is over and he is awake, I think. Go ahead and go on in, but DO NOT touch him. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Astrid whispered, and went to the door that led to the room. She thought Tuff would follow her, but he did not. Neither did the doctor. She went in alone.

The first thing that Astrid became aware of as she entered was the steady 'beep' 'beep' that she knew so well from the movies, the machine that measured heart rate. This seemed to be the last and final proof that Astrid needed to know that Agent Haddock was indeed alive.

"Henry?" She asked quietly, pulling up a chair next to his bed and sitting next to his head. "Henry? Are you awake?"

Agent Haddock's eyes slowly opened. Blinking once or twice, he saw who it was. With a wink, he gave Astrid a wry smile.

"So the tearful wife has come to visit her husband in the hospital?"

Astrid laughed, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "You - how can you joke right now?"

"If I ever stop joking, Milady, shoot me," Agent Haddock smiled. "I'll never stop having fun, even though I'm now -" he sighed and glanced at his severed leg. "A cripple."

"Hey," Astrid whispered, defying the doctor's orders and touching Agent Haddock's cheek. "You're alive, and that's all that matters to me right now."

Agent Haddock smiled. "Since when did I matter so much to you, Astrid?"

"You – you dork," Astrid scowled, resisting the urge to cuff Agent Haddock. Instead she stroked his cheek. "You matter a lot more to me than now I ever thought you could."

Agent Haddock smiled. "If I could move I would kiss you silly right now."

"Well, I can move," Astrid told him with a mischievous smirk, and leaned over Agent Haddock on the bed, cradling his head in both of her hands. Then she bent down and kissed him deeply and passionately on the lips. Agent Haddock used his uninjured arm to caress her cheek as he deepened the kiss. And in that moment they were both lost to the world.

It was about a full minute before someone above them cleared his throat.

"Ahem."

Breaking away, Astrid whirled to look up at Agent Thorston. He had come in the door and had been standing watching them for some time.

"Well, Henry, it's good to see you're all bright and lively again," Tuff grinned, as they both reddened.

"Well, fuck you, Tuff," Henry grunted. "Always a party crasher."

"Ha! This is one party that I needed to interrupt before it got too intense. Holy shit. If getting injured gets me some of that, I'm going to go chop off MY leg."

"Please." Agent Haddock growled.

"Eh, not right now." Tuff winked at Astrid. "Anyway, you two have a visitor, so save the tongue-action for later. You both know Colonel Jorgenson."

"Too well," Agent Haddock muttered. "Jesus Christ. I just get out of a coma and the first thing I have to deal with is him?"

"Hey, you should be lucky you got some more – pleasant – company first," Tuff smirked. "And you still have time. He's coming in five minutes. I just needed to come and warn you. Now, you can get back to whatever it is you were doing before. I'll wait here."

"No, you fucking won't," Agent Haddock growled. "For the love of God, Tuff, stop being a dickhead. Astrid, come here."

"Oh!" Tuff laughed, but Agent Haddock did not kiss Astrid as she leaned in. Instead, he whispered in her ear.

"Get up and kick Tuff in the balls for me."

Astrid grinned and got up, walking straight up to Agent Thorston.

"Hey, kiss him, not me," Tuff grinned. "Even though I have no problem with that -"

Astrid lifted the corner of her mouth, and, without warning, kneed Tuff solidly in between the legs.

"Ooooooohhh!" Tuff groaned, collapsing to the floor. "Owoooogh! Fuck! My balls! Oh, shit, now I AM hurt! I am very much hurt!" He rolled around in agony.

"Why don't you stop pretending you had anything there to hurt and get out?" Astrid laughed. "Gee, if I was on a mission with you I'd take YOU out. Come on, the door is that way."

"So – mean," Tuff groaned, climbing to his hands and knees. "Jesus! What did I do to deserve that?"

"Kick him again, Astrid," Agent Haddock muttered.

"No! I'm going, I'm going!" Tuff leapt to his feet with surprising agility considering his injury, and tried to escape out the door. Astrid did manage to plant one of her bare feet in the seat of his pants, however, and he yelped as tumbled out, the door closing behind him.

Astrid turned back to the bed, where Agent Haddock was laughing.

"Violence is the only way to deal with that assclown," he chuckled.

"I can tell," Astrid grinned. "Luckily violence is one of my talents."

"I noticed," Henry grinned, as Astrid came back to sit down next to him again. "You should have been military, Blondie."

"No. I would never make it. Sure, I shot some people and landed a plane, but I only was able to do that to – to -" Astrid stopped and looked down, her face growing hot.

Agent Haddock raised an eyebrow. "To what?"

"To save you." Astrid looked up. "I – I just couldn't let you die."

Agent Haddock smiled tenderly. "I get the feeling you really like me."

"I DID like you," Astrid turned light and playful, "until you decided to crash my plane! Why did you DO that, Henry? I was going to land it."

Henry reached over with his uninjured hand and took Astrid's in his own.

"I had orders, Milady," he told her quietly. "You see, the terrorists won't stop hunting us till we're dead. The Colonel knew that before we even got on the plane. So he had to make it seem like we died. Crashing the plane was the simplest and easiest way to do it. That's why I ordered you off the headset, to take those orders. I had to crash it."

"My God," Astrid whispered. "So – we are officially - ?"

"Dead, yes," Agent Haddock smiled. "We died a tragic death in a plane crash on the USS Idaho. I think the story is already in the newspapers. It's been three days."

"Three days," Astrid whispered. "My God. What about my parents? My family? How will they ever -"

"They won't, Astrid." Henry gave Astrid's hand a squeeze. "We are now nonexistent. We can't see anyone, tell ANYone. We are dead."

Astrid stared. The world reeled in front of her eyes. Her parents, her schooling, her friends, they all could not know that she was still alive. It was all a blur, a mix of mindless emotions.

Then the door opened.

Astrid, still gaping in shock, released Henry's hand and turned to look at the newcomer. It was Colonel Jorgenson, as expected. He did not say a word. He merely looked at them for three seconds, and then went to a wall, removed a chair, brought it in front of Astrid and Henry, and sat.

"Well." He took a breath. "You understand why we crashed that F-18, correct? Haddock? Miss Hofferson? Have you understood that yet?"

"Yes," Astrid whispered. "We have to be – dead."

"You are dead. Officially, you are dead, Miss Hofferson. All pretense previously has been abolished. The world now thinks that you, an American citizen, went to Golbahar to visit a friend, got attacked by terrorists there, the US had to save you, and then the event on the plane took place exactly as it did. However, in your return to safety your plane crashed and died. That is the official story, and it will NOT change. You are dead. Both of you."

Astrid swallowed. "Oh God."

Colonel Jorgenson nodded. "I realize you have already begun to understand the full bearing of this incident. You cannot EVER communicate with anyone who knew you previously. You cannot ever be seen as Miss Hofferson again. Your name must be erased. Agent Haddock's name must be erased. Neither of you can ever be seen alive."

Astrid reached for Agent Haddock's hand again. He took it, and they gripped each other's hands firmly.

"This leaves me with an unfortunate decision once again," Colonel Jorgenson went on. "You must be dealt with. We have to find you a place to live, away from anyone who might recognize you, in seclusion. You will have to be cut off from most of society for a very long time."

He paused. "That is non-negotiable. However, you do have one option. You can stay together. The United States prefers this method. It will make it easier to monitor you and provide for you. If you are together, everything gets simpler. Besides, you will be the only people you can ever speak to of what occurred. So, you can either split apart, and never see each other again, or spend the next ten years with each other, with little or no contact with anyone else."

Astrid looked at Henry.

"I won't leave you, Astrid," Henry told her with a squeeze of her hand. "I am staying with you."

"And I you." Astrid smiled.

Henry looked at the Colonel. "We'll do it together."

"Great." The Colonel grinned. "And I need not ask why you want that, eh?" He chuckled. "Very well. You will be kept on board a week after we dock in Virginia. Then, discreetly, you will be flown to Montana, where you will be placed in a well-kept cabin and supplied, funded, and accessed by the US. Government. After recovering for six months, you will stay there for ten years, with only VERY few sanctioned travels to cities or other public places. That is final."

Henry and Astrid nodded.

"Very well." The Colonel rose. "Once those ten years are up, you are free to go. You will still be monitored, however, and if you breathe a word of any of this to ANYone, you will be killed. But it is for your own good to keep your mouth shut regardless. If the terrorists find out that you lived, they will find you and kill you. So keep it zipped."

"Yes sir," Agent Haddock said.

"Good." The Colonel paused, about to leave. Then he stepped forward to the bed. "Agent Haddock. I never thought I would ever fucking say this, but I - erm - regret that you have been injured and taken out of my force. You were my best fucking soldier. I'll - miss you."

He extended his hand, and Agent Haddock let go of Astrid's hand to shake it.

"Thank you, Colonel."

"Bah, go to hell. You'll never see me again."

"Good." Agent Haddock grinned. "I won't have to tolerate the ugliness any longer."

The Colonel ignored the comment. Releasing Agent Haddock's hand, he turned to Astrid.

"And you," he laughed, "are the craziest, fightingest, most savage and resilient girl I have ever met. It was a pleasure hearing about how you kicked more ass than Haddock did. I wish you the best."

He shook Astrid's hand, and Astrid grinned at him.

"I don't think it's possible to kick more ass than Henry, Colonel."

"Well, don't say that!" Colonel Jorgenson snapped. Then he laughed. "Well, this is the last time I'll have to put up with your shit, both of you. Thank God, after all the Goddamm trouble you've caused me." He walked to the door, turned, and saluted.

Agent Haddock saluted back.

The Colonel left.

Astrid stared after him for a few seconds, then turned back to Agent Haddock. He had a sad smile on his face.

"Well, you and I are stuck together for a decade, Milady. Will you be able to bear it?"

Astrid leaned over Henry and kissed him again. "I can bear anything with you."

"It will be hard, Astrid," Agent Haddock said sadly. "You won't be able to see your parents, your friends, and everyone you love."

"Not everyone." Astrid smiled at Agent Haddock. "You silly dork. I love _you_."

Henry looked up at Astrid, tears in his green eyes. "I love you too."

Astrid kissed Henry again, lingering longer this time. When they released each other, Henry sighed affectionately.

"It'll be a fun ten years, with just you, me, and ourselves."

Astrid laughed. "It will be. But we'll get to go places sometimes."

"Sure. But most of the time we'll be stuck alone. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I can handle anything."

Agent Haddock laughed, and tugged Astrid down into a hug, although he winced slightly as she touched his injured chest.

"I bet you could. Hell, is there anything we can't do? We've shot terrorists, saved airplanes, and killed ourselves and still lived. We're the greatest couple that ever existed." Agent Haddock chuckled.

"We're twin bullets."

* * *

YAY! I was originally intending to end the story right there, but I decided to add an epilogue and an epilogue I shall add. Expect it in a week or so. But for now, review, let me know what you thought! Thanks so much!

 **Over.**

NatB.


	8. Marry Me Again?

Well.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I feel kinda bad for making you all wait so long, but there was really nothing I could do about it. I had written this chapter, along with two others for my other stories, but my computer went haywire. I lost all the chapters and my backups. Then I went fishing for a month, and couldn't write. Now I'm back, but the fall rush has hit me. I'm prepping for my college courses, XC running season has started, and time is not something I have much of right now.

However. I am in the process of re-writing the lost chapters from my other two stories, Captain Hiccup and Running with Fate, and am hoping to post them soon. I'm doing my best. Thanks so much for your patience.

* * *

 **Guest reviewers… although by now you've probably forgotten what you reviewed about… :(**

Guest1: So glad you like the story, and while this epilogue took forever for me to actually post, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much.

Guest2: Yes, I know… this epilogue was a long time in coming. Sorry, but here it is. Hope you like it.

jade: Aw, thanks so much, jade. Honestly, this story is not something I put much effort into… it was just an old story idea that I turned into a HTTYD AU. But I do love this story, and I'm so glad you do too. Thank you!

NatB.

* * *

 **Time: 2000 hours  
Location: Roanwood, Montana  
** **Coordinates: (46.8797 110.3626)** **  
Date: May 30, 2017**

The birds were singing in the trees, and running water combined with a soft, glowing sunset perfected the scenery for two people, moving slowly along a wooden bridge. It was deep in the forests of Montana, tucked away miles from any large city. It was a private estate that was far from lacking in rich luxury. The only problem was, the two people were not allowed to leave.

Henry and Astrid slowly moved across the bridge to the center, and there Henry paused to catch his breath, leaning on his crutches.

"It's been almost a full month, Astrid," he sighed, staring down at the stump of his leg, which would never grow back again. "And I still haven't fully grasped it, that I'm crippled for life."

Astrid wrapped her arms around Henry's back and kissed him on the cheek from behind.

"Well, Mr. Crippled for Life, you're still as hot as ever. I don't care about your leg - in fact, it makes you really look like a veteran."

Henry smiled, leaning his crutches on the railing of the bridge and turning to face Astrid.

"You're the greatest, you know that, Blondie?"

Astrid smiled. "You tell me that every other day."

"Well I'm telling you again." Henry cupped her face in his palms and kissed her deeply. "There. Was that a better way of saying it?"

Astrid smiled. "Much better."

"I love you, Astrid."

"I love you, too."

As the pair looked dreamily at each other, suddenly a jeep drove up on the road next to the bridge. Henry and Astrid spared a look at it, but had seen it many times before. It was the military people coming to bring them something.

"What do they want now?" Henry muttered, and he and Astrid watched as a man took a medium sized cardboard box from the jeep, got out of the vehicle, and walked up to Henry and Astrid. He showed them a military ID and said in an official tone,

"I was told to deliver this to you two personally. Orders." He handed the package to Astrid, stepped back, and saluted.

Henry saluted back, and the soldier turned and left, getting in the jeep and leaving just as abruptly as he had arrived.

Henry sighed happily, and placed his elbows on the edge of the bridge, staring into the flowing stream below. "Well, would you look at that," he laughed. "Military delivery service at its best. I never thought being alone for so long could be so fun."

Astrid laughed. "Well, this may not be so fun." She opened the box and pulled out a packet, filled with papers. "This is a note from high up. We have to decide what materials we want to requisition from the Colonel. It's nice when everything you want is brought right to your door, but we'll have to actually sit down and figure out what we need." Astrid giggled. "I wonder what the Colonel will say when he sees our request for new springs in the mattress."

Henry laughed. "If he complains he can go to hell. He stuck us out here in the middle of nowhere! He must know our only real amusement is in the bedroom."

"And on the couch," Astrid chuckled. "And on the counter. And in the bathtub – oh. This is interesting."

Astrid pulled out a packet from the box, and opened the envelope attached to it.

"What is it, Blondie?" Henry asked, bending down to look.

Astrid was reading.

"Oh well, get this, Henry. This note says that apparently the tourists are all coming up in this area soon, and we may be seen. Our dear Colonel Jorgenson sent us a present again. Check it out."

Astrid handed an opened folder from the box to Henry.

"Oh dear," Henry laughed, and pulled out the same things he had pulled out of a similar folder a month earlier. "Not again."

It was a marriage license and wedding rings.

"Funny, they're different," Henry commented. "They changed them up after they took the last pair from us."

"Uh-huh," Astrid told Henry. "And now we're getting remarried. Well, come on, Haddock, time to propose for the second time. Gimme my ring."

"I don't think so," Henry grinned. Then, abruptly, he raised his arm and sent the wedding rings flying over the edge of the bridge, into the running water below. The flashed in the sunset for a second before vanishing in the water forever.

"Hey, are you crazy!?" Astrid leapt to the edge of the rail and stared at where the rings had vanished. "What was that for, you -?"

"The Colonel has no business doing my job for me," Henry smiled, and pulled a case of his own from his pocket. With a wince of pain, he dropped to one knee and opened the case, revealing a ring of his own, which was even more beautiful than the one he had flung away.

Astrid gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Astrid Hofferson," Henry said with a grin, "Will you REALLY marry me?"

"Oh my God." Astrid began to laugh and cry at the same time. "Did you just... oh my God...

"Yes."

* * *

All right, epilogue over, and now Twin Bullets has come to a close. My first completed FanFic, a milestone for me. Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed… you guys inspire me and you were the best, especially to thearizona for constantly telling me what's right and wrong about my military stuff. Also big kudos to my pal Foster117, Midnight510, tjjenkins, SharKohen, crazy Aussie friend TidePoolAngel, jlrdsr, demonic dragon balde, LunnaValley23, and my man Agent Khizar for staying with this story from the very beginning. Love you all, you're the best. :)

 **Over and OUT.**

NatB.


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